


On Serendipitous Tides

by angelcakkes



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Cruise Ship, Bffs!MarkNoMin, Chef!Donghyuck, Dancer!Renjun, Fluff, I felt like I needed to clarify, Light Angst, M/M, Perspectives switch between markhyuck and noren, Slow Burn, Tourism, not a sad ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 22:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14174703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelcakkes/pseuds/angelcakkes
Summary: What's supposed to be a relaxing vacation is quickly overturned when Mark crashes and damages thousands of dollars worth of dining-ware, and Jeno throws up all over a cute dancer.





	On Serendipitous Tides

**Author's Note:**

> Really bad at descriptions.  
> Anyways! Hello again! Back with another noren (to no one's surprise) and markhyuck!  
> The perspectives in this fic will alternate mainly between Jeno and Mark, so you can read the progress of both relationships and hopefully not get too confused.  
> As always, I can't not have a bit of drama and angst in my fics so prepare for that I guess. I'm not saying it's a /completely/ happy ending though, it's a hopeful ending. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER:  
> I do not own anything in this work except for the storyline and characterisation. NCT and the mentioned historical sites DO NOT BELONG TO ME. I've tried to be as culturally aware and sensitive as possible, by doing research and asking my friends, but if I miss anything, please let me know. 
> 
> Without further ado, read on!

The sound of the gulls at the harbour mingle with the ongoing stream of tourists, filing on and off the ship. Smooth waves lap at the sides, frothing against the hot steel. Sunshine glares and bounces off the stark white paint, reflecting off in waves of heat and blinding light. From afar, the ship is like a beacon; too bright for the naked eye to see, until close enough, and the gigantic, floating mass, towers hundreds of metres up towards the refreshingly clean, blue, summer sky. Chatter flows and blends like a current, with the beat of the waves and the wings of the birds, settling to a dull hum at the back of Jeno’s mind, as he throws his upper body over the rails. He hurls the remainder of his lunch (and possibly some stomach lining) off the side, gut wrenching and eyes burning from the exertion. Jaemin grimaces, pinching his nose and looking elsewhere, “we haven’t even left the dock yet.”

Jeno moans, body hanging limp over the bars. Slowly, he pushes himself upright, leaning back against the handrails as he turns to his friend. “This was a stupid idea. I shouldn’t have come.”

Jaemin’s face crumples further in disgust, as Jeno makes a strained gargle and flings himself over the rails again. “God,” he sighs, hands resting on his hips, “I’m beginning to think bringing Jisung along would’ve been better.”

Jeno makes a clamped wail. Mark strolls over from amidst the crowd of passengers, toothy grin on his lips, only skidding to a halt at the sight of Jeno’s pathetic state. “Still?” He cries, “I was gone for half an hour!”

Jaemin shrugs, walking off as Mark moves closer to Jeno and rubs his back comfortingly. Jeno stirs to life with a groan, as he rubs at his throat, soothing the scratchiness away. Jaemin returns promptly with a bottle of water that Jeno chugs down instantly. Giving the okay to go on with his thumb, the trio move on to roam the ship.

 

It’s a quaint afternoon. The sun shines brightly but not excruciatingly, and the breeze is light and cool, making for a perfect day of exploring the massive ship. Jaemin and Mark lug around a sluggish Jeno, stopping every few minutes to marvel at the ship’s amenities.

“There’s a mini golf-course!” Jaemin chirps excitedly, spooning butterscotch ice-cream into his mouth. “And a HUGE casino on the upper deck!”

The ship-guide flaps against the wind, threatening to break away from Mark’s tight grip. “Yeah, no. No casino. We’re broke college students on a _free_ cruise that we _won._ We can’t afford any of this in the first place, and now, nothing else after this.”

Jaemin groans, “I know. I was just saying.”

Mark and Jaemin continue scanning the map and gawking at the sights while Jeno tunes out. His throat felt raw, and his head felt heavy on his shoulders. Three months ago, when they had signed up for the college’s sponsored Hip-Hop Festival’s _Cruise Combo Competition_ , a getaway on the high seas, travelling around the world on the water for 2 weeks, seemed like a great idea. Heck, anything away from Jeno’s intolerable film project partner sounded like a _fantastic_ idea. A month of preparation and practice it took for them to come up with a performance from scratch, and another antsy month of waiting it took for the winners to be announced. Needless to say, when the email and letter and notice-board sign declared their victory, the triad were ecstatic. Jeno may have shed a tear – per Jaemin’s words that Jeno disagrees to.  

Jaemin grabs Jeno by the wrist and pulls him into an arcade lest he wander off in a sickly daze. Mark and Jaemin guffaw at the vast space filled with games and flashing lights, while Jeno finds somewhere to sit. He pats a nearby stool before propping himself on it, back slouched and head rolling back. The lights stung his eyes and the music made his ears ring. He felt too lethargic and gross to join his friends in their excitement, smell of the saline sea and stomach acid still lingering in his nose and making him want to throw up all over again. Jaemin catches him sitting in the corner and sighs, calling Mark over before deciding to drag Jeno’s sorry form back to his suite.

“You can explore after you feel better.” Jaemin assures him, as he and Mark practically throw Jeno’s body onto the bed. Jeno hits the mattress with an _oof_ , and groans, shutting his eyes and trying to distract his thoughts away from the nauseating swaying and tilting of the boat.

-

Mark shuts the suite door behind him as he and Jaemin head out to continue to explore the ship. Now with Jeno tucked away, they were free to move about without worry. The cruise is catered towards the elderly, the almost-elderly, the honeymooners, and the business tycoons – Mark deduces, as they walk past groups of the like. There are few passengers around that looked their age, and anyone younger is _too young_ – literally, children. Only a few of the staff members they have met – such as the Thai server at the breakfast buffet – are remotely their age, and frankly, it’s awkward and sad.

“People around us are probably think what the hell are college kids doing on a five-star cruise.” Jaemin says, throwing a judging look back at an old woman who watches them from the hot-tub. Mark grabs his head and turns him away, pulling his attention back to the guide-booklet.

“Where does the guide say the ship stops at first?” Jaemin asks, walking two steps ahead, then backwards to face Mark.

Mark flips through the pages, “Japan.”

“Ooh,” Jaemin coos, spinning around and placing his hands on his nape, “how exciting!”

Mark smiles and nods, feeling thrilled for what the cruise would bring. The trip was planned as a getaway from assignments, teachers, and parents. College was hard, parents were hard, and simply put, Mark was tired and in desperate need for a break. His parents had been reluctant to send him off, claiming that the trip would be detrimental to his business studies, to his focus on education. After a few weeks of begging and relentless hours of studying ahead of his course, they let him go. Jaemin, on the other hand, tossed his eco-science books aside and packed his bags immediately. Mark often felt envious of his carefree attitude and easy-going parents.

“YUM!” Jaemin smacks his lips, face pressed against the glass window of a restaurant, drooling at the fresh seafood on display. Mark steps closer and does the same, face squished against the glass, feasting his eyes upon the delicious delicacies – lobster, crab, sashimi, and more. Judging by the map, this is the cruise’s most esteemed restaurant, _7 Seas,_ with a rating of 5 red-lobsters left by previous patrons. According to the guide, it was also pricey.

Peeling his face away, he sighs dejectedly and frowns, “too expensive.”

“Mark,” Jaemin turns and whines, “at least once. We’re here to indulge a little, and we have some savings from our part-time jobs, and besides,” he grins, “you have your dad’s card, and he gave you permission to use it to your needs.”

“This isn’t a need.”

Jaemin sighs, exasperated, shoulders drooping down in distress. “Mark Lee it’s about time you take charge of your life and live it to the fullest I am sick and tired of you constantly undermining yourself and not treating yourself because you deserve it and frankly as your bestest best friend so do I – “

“Oh my god, stop. Okay.” Mark gives in with an exasperated sigh. Jaemin gives a victory cheer, then skips off, up the stairs and to the upper deck.

At the highest level is a bar, teeming with customers despite the afternoon. Further down are three more pools, adding to the seven Mark has seen on his way up the ship, and two Jacuzzis. The sight of the bubbling, steaming water, made the strains in Mark’s back and shoulders flare up, aching for the relaxing sight. Jaemin prances down the steps leading to a fake-lawn on a balcony stretching halfway across the platform, overlooking the sea. Mark joins him in squinting at the horizon, the golden sun making the rippling water gleam and sparkle. Lost in the moment, he closes his eyes and stretches his arms out, and the universe replies by sending a gust of cool wind his way. The breeze threads through his hair and stings the dry skin on his cheeks, yet Mark smiles. This is freedom.

For a few breaths, it’s quiet. He opens an eye took look at Jaemin, who mirrors his look of serenity. Then, his stomach growls.

Jaemin laughs and the moment is gone. The wind stills and Mark clears his throat, embarrassed. Jaemin slaps his back and pulls him away from the rails.

“Let’s go get something to eat.”

-

Jeno blinks awake to the sound of waves crashing. At first, he thinks he’s at home and Jaemin is playing his white-noise app again, so he turns over on his side and goes back to sleep. Then he recalls the day before and shoots up. Jaemin chooses the moment to walk through the door, stretching and stifling a yawn.

“You’re up.” He says with a nod at Jeno, whose eyes are still bleary and head still heavy.

“How long was I out for?” Jeno’s voice is raspy, like he’s hungover or feverish. He feels feverish.

“Like,” Jaemin says through a mouth full of, Jeno squints, waffle. “A whole day.” Jeno groans and flops back onto the bed. “I got you some food.”

“You’re eating it.”

“Yeah, but I saved some for you.” He yanks Jeno up by an arm and pushes his limp body towards the bathroom. “Go rectify yourself! We have stuff to do and only two weeks to do it!” The door clicks behind him, and Jeno shrugs off his clothes, allowing the cold water to ebb away the dreariness.

After a quick breakfast of half a plate of waffles, Jaemin takes him out to surf on a simulator. Jeno’s reluctant at first, having just recovered from the previous day’s nausea, but seeing Jaemin have fun and fall on his face gave him the final push to join. For what felt like hours, they spent laughing as they surfed the – _fake_ – waves. Jaemin kept trying to pull Jeno down, making Jeno thrash and almost kick him in the face. Mark joins them later and the two tackle him into the water, clothes drenched and ears thrumming. Around what felt like lunch time, they head to a café and fill their stomachs with sandwiches and pastries.

“There’s a showing at the theatre tonight,” Jaemin says excitedly in between bites. A piece of lettuce dangles from the corner of his mouth. Jeno grimaces, leaning over to push it in. “Some dance act, looks cool. We should go.”

“Sounds great!” Mark chimes in, “we should head over to that restaurant after.”

“Ooh, look who’s excited now.” Jaemin wiggles his brows, earning him a shove from Mark.

“Shut up. I’m just taking your advice.”

Jeno looks between them, feeling lost, so he continues eating in silence. Jaemin kicks under the table, “you’re coming too.”

Jeno whines. “I wanted to go up to the jacuzzi.”

“We can do that some other time. You’re joining us for this.”

Finding no room for argument from Jaemin’s assertive tone, Jeno doesn’t complain. He figures saving the best for later would be rewarding anyways. Stealing the cream puff off Jaemin’s plate, he shoves the sweet into his mouth and savours the cream bursting on his tongue. Minus the constant, steady, rocking of the boat, Jeno could get used to this. The food and the fun, his two best friends and, again, the food. No ugly professors and no annoying, whiny, project partners to worry about. He takes out his camera from his bag and snaps a photo; first of the half-eaten cream puff, and then a candid one of Mark and Jaemin. The shutter clicks and Jaemin turns at the sound, complaining that he wasn’t ready and looked ugly. Jeno grins cheekily and agrees, making Jaemin kick his shin. He snaps another one, with Jaemin and Mark looking and smiling, more posed than he’d like but still good.

After they’ve finished eating, the trio head to the _Serenity Deck_ to lie on hammocks and bathe in the sun. Jaemin goes off on a random topic regarding sea urchins, god knows why, and before long, he’s drawling. The gentle breeze sways the hammock, lulling Jeno into a peaceful nap. Sunlight kisses his skin and ignites tiny fires all over, making the hair on his arms prick. Soon, the sound of soft snores and easy breathing hits his ears, and without opening his eyes, he knows Jaemin and Mark are asleep. Sighing, he decides to take a nap too, after all, this trip is supposed to be a stress-reliever.

-

Mark wakes to the sound of children screaming, as they run past. Wincing, he stretches awake and rolls over, not realising he was on a hammock, and flops to the floor. He hits the deck, face first, and groans in pain. Thankfully, his nose is saved due to his fast reflexes, yet his forehead throbbed in pain. He groans to a stand, massaging the pain away and praying for no bump to form. Taking in the sight of his friends’ sleeping forms, he decides to let them sleep a bit longer, and shuffles away to a bathroom to freshen up.

Mark rubs his bleary eyes, blinking rapidly once pale, pulsing dots fill his vision. He staggers to a bathroom, still trying to blink his eyes back to normal, when he slams into a stranger exiting the bathroom. Said boy stumbles back, gripping the door frame for balance. Mark’s sight returns in time for tan, sun-soaked skin and auburn hair to fill his vision. Oh. The stranger is glaring.

“I’m sorry. I was kind of – “

“No, sir. It was my fault. I apologise.” Despite so, the boy didn’t _sound_ sorry – his voice was all bark _and_ bite.

Before Mark has time to respond, the boy pushes past him and walks off, disappearing around the corner of the deck. With a shrug, Mark enters the bathroom and splashes his face with cold water, trickling down his face and dripping onto the sink. He checks his appearance and finds his right arm red, the hammock ropes printed onto his skin. He rubs at the bumpy surface, something he’s never experience before. Jaemin’s arm always has carpet prints or red marks from _a good nap,_ as he tells Mark. Except, Mark can’t relate – he’s never had a good nap, always a stressed nap – until now. The vacation is turning out better than expected. Mark smiles at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair with his wet hands then drying them on his jeans, he walks back to his friends.

He shakes Jaemin and Jeno awake. “Guys, the show starts in an hour.”

Jaemin yawns, stirring to life, stretching his body loose. Waking Jeno proves to be the harder task, as no amount of shaking works. Finally, pissed and needing to go to the bathroom, Jaemin opts for flipping him over. He is successful. With Jeno finally up, they head back to their suites – Mark to his own, single room – and get ready for the night ahead. Mark comes out first and looks over the balcony as he waits for the other two. The sun steadily sets into the sea, melting into the water in ripples of gold, like a gilded trail leading off the edge of the world. The sight is stunning. He breathes in deeply; air salty from the sea and toasted from the warm day, filling his lungs. A door clicks open and Mark spins around to meet Jaemin and Jeno exiting the hall, dressed and ready for the show.  He smiles.

“Let’s go.”

 

They had underestimated the number of people that would be attending the performance. As they enter the hall – massive in size and dimly lit – it was already teeming with people, despite them arriving a good half hour early. Mark and Jeno stand shell-shocked at the door to the theatre, thrown off by the huge crowd, while Jaemin quickly skips down the steps and tries to get them decent seats. He hisses at them to get moving, and the two join him in the third row, not too far or close to the stage. From the chatter around them, and the pamphlet they were handed prior to booking the tickets, it was obvious that the dancers were well anticipated and popular.

“Most of the passengers travelled with this line before,” Jaemin shouts over the noise, “so they’re probably excited to see them again.”

Mark looks around at the lively crowd, then back at Jaemin. “You think?”

Jaemin ignores him, focused on the pamphlet in his hands. Mark sighs with contentment at the soft seat, burying himself deeper into the plush leather, getting comfortable, and leans back to watch the show.

-

Jeno reaches over Mark and snatches the pamphlet from Jaemin, flicking through to find more information on the performers. On the cover, in golden script, writes _A Dance Against Time_ starring _Sicheng_ and _Jun,_ hanging over black silhouettes of the dancers in mid-motion. Jeno flips the page to read more on the dancers. Both were noted to be from China; _Sicheng_ was older and had been dancing for quite some time (6 years), whereas _Jun_ had only been performing for half the time. Surprisingly, he finds out that Jun was the same age as him – albeit, exactly one month older. Jeno sighs and wonders if he’ll ever get his life together so fast, to be able to follow his dreams and tour the world with his camera, like the young dancer does on his feet. The audience around him clap, and Jeno looks up to the see the red drapes parting. Tucking the paper away, he sits back as the stage comes to full view.

A lone figure steps onto the stage, dressed in a black, traditional suit that contrasts heavily against his blonde hair. A gong sounds, drums roll, and he begins to dance across the stage. Not simply a dance, more a performance, an act, a telling of a story through quick steps that smooth into graceful glides. Like _dance_ was made for him. He blends into the rhythm, as if the music is what propels him to move – effortlessly and as easily as the steady puffs of breath he takes that Jeno manages to catch, by the way his chest rises and sets. Jeno’s mouth hangs open in awe, floored by the way the dancer moves with such experience. His face remains stoic, but his body conveys enough emotion with every flick of the wrist and turn of the hand, to make up for his stern expression. The dancer spins, slowly curling into himself until he’s wrapped up in his own limbs in the centre of the stage. The lights go out, and Jeno feels like the performance went by with lightning speed, leaving him barely any room to breathe.

Before he can react, the lights flick on; a single spotlight bathing a smaller figure in the same formation. This time, the dancer is in white, with dark hair juxtaposing his pristine attire. He rises. Time stops. Jeno stops breathing. The dancer looks up at the audience from under his fringe, and Jeno swears he sees him smirk, before his stature melts away with the music – a traditional folk song. Unlike the previous dancer, his moves are sharp and crisp, polished and refined. Every fluid turn, every supple bend of the body, is measured and calculated. He breathes evenly, almost secretly, as if it was an indulgence he couldn’t afford in such a moment. The dancer rolls his neck, and for a split second, his eyes rest on Jeno. Dark orbs lock with Jeno’s own, a cheeky smirk graces his lips, disappearing faster than its appearance, knocking the wind right out of Jeno’s lungs. And he’s gasping.  The raven-haired dancer continues to perform, as if he hadn’t murdered Jeno’s heart in cold blood. He keeps casting sneaky glances towards the audience, captivating them with his strong gaze and devious aura. Despite his precise performance, his expressions reveal his youth –  relaxed and unabashed.  Like _he_ was made for dance.

The music slows to a soft hum as the dancer finishes gracefully. The stage blacks out, and the audience erupts into a standing ovation. Jeno blinks, realises he had shifted to the edge of his seat, and slowly stands to join the applause. His feels his heart hammer against his chest, threatening to break his ribs. He splays his hand over his chest, and takes a deep breath.

The auditorium gradually empties, and Jaemin has to pull Jeno out of his seat to get him moving. In a daze, Jeno waddles out of the theatre, trailing behind Mark and Jaemin as they make their way to the restaurant, excitedly talking about the show.

-

Mark fiddles with the tiny fork beside the five other, different sized forks. He frowns, not sure why anyone would need that many in the first place. He wonders if his father has trouble choosing between forks when he attends his business meetings and dinners. Most probably not.

“I think I’ll have this lobster thing.” Jaemin announces from across the table, face hidden behind the menu. “What about you Jeno?”

Jeno jolts, then clears his throat to answer, “whatever. The same for me.”

Jaemin raises a brow, but doesn’t question Jeno’s choice. He’s been awfully quiet since the show, and neither of them could get him to talk. Mark looks around the restaurant. They are surrounded by tables draped in primeval, white tablecloths. The place is packed with people, ranging from seniors to newly-weds to business-men. Mark squirms in his seat, vigorously rubbing his clammy hands on his slacks, feeling out of place. Jaemin goes on to rave about the performance, throwing in colourful descriptors of ‘amazing’, ‘life-changing’, and ‘riveting’. Jeno quietly listens as he sips his _water over ice_ – which is really iced water, but fancy items in fancy restaurants require fancy names, Mark supposes.

Crystal chandeliers loom over their heads, bathing the restaurant in white light. The silverware and glass sparkle, enriched and bright and blinding. At the corner of the room, a young man plays the cello; deep notes washing the conversation in the room down to soft murmurs.  Mark scans the room, eyes flitting to the walls etched with patterns and characters in a language Mark doesn’t recognise. _Latin or Greek or Chinese, maybe._ He stares out of the glass doors. The dark, almost black, sky was dotted with specks of stars, glittering and twinkling thousands of light years away. Silently, the sea tremors from the night wind. If Mark closes his eyes and clears his head, he can feel the breeze, and hear the sea. The glass door opens and lets in a rush of ocean air. Mark shivers. Brought back to his surroundings, he sighs. A few more men in suits enter the restaurant, loosening their ties and shrugging off their coats. Mark squirms in his seat again, deciding he needs to get up and move before he combusts. The scene was too fit for a business-man in training, and yet somehow, completely unfit for Mark.

“I’m going outside.” He says, standing up in his seat. “Need some air.”

Jaemin furrows his brows, “are you okay?”

Mark nods, hurrying away before Jaemin can interrogate him. He didn’t need his friend to worry over something Mark himself barely understood. Heading straight for the door with picking speed, he trips over his own feet and crashes straight into a wait-staff. Mark stumbles, but manages to steady himself, while the boy falls on his butt, with the tray of food he was carrying flinging to the floor. Plates and glass smash upon impact, splitting into a thousand pieces. Food smears all over the floor and the boy’s white uniform, and as Mark looks up, he catches him fuming.

_It’s the boy from before._

“You –“

“Hyuck! What happened?” A tall, worried kitchen-staff runs over to help the boy to his feet.

“Him!” The boy shrieks, pointing accusingly at Mark.

Mark gulps, holding his hands up in defence. “I’m so sorry –“

“Don’t you watch where you’re going?! Are you blind?!” The boy bites, making Mark flinch.

“Hyuck, stop. He’s a customer.” The staff member hushes.

“That ruined thousands of dollars’ worth of food, and even more of glassware!”

Mark gulps. This is not good. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you and didn’t mean to bump into you and ruin…” he trails off, eyes casting down to the mess on the floor, feeling lost for words.

The older staff sighs, rubbing the boy’s back soothingly. He whispers into his ear before the other boy calms down and leaves with a huff. The man turns to Mark, then down at the mess, rubbing his temples. “We’re going to get this cleaned up, sir, but know that you have to pay for damages. This cannot be swept over.”

Mark freezes. According to the screaming boy, he had broken plates and glasses amounting to thousands. “I – I’m not – “

The tanned boy returns, followed by an even taller, towering boy, seeming to be his age despite his height. The tall boy starts cleaning up the mess, as the smaller returns to glaring at Mark.

“Will you be writing a check, sir?” The man interrupts Mark’s daze, and he flounders.

“I – I can’t pay that.“ _My dad will kill me._ “I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry –“

“Well then, sir, we have to negotiate on other ways you can compensate for your actions.”

Mark splutters, eyes darting from the three faces staring at him, then going blurry. A hand comes to rest on his shoulders, and Mark’s eyes finally rest on the strong gaze of the auburn-haired boy, who grins mischievously. “Well then, hard labour it is.”

-

Jeno studies the cooked crustacean before him, turning the plate this way and that, trying to make sense of how to eat it and where to begin. Thankfully, Jaemin demonstrates, savagely snapping off a leg and breaking into the shell, repulsively sucking the meat out and smacking his lips. Jeno grimaces. He tries to copy Jaemin as he digs into his own plate, when a large crash sounds. The pair snap their neck towards the commotion. Jaemin’s eyes grow wide.

“Shit. Whoever just broke all those expensive-ass plates are in some serious trouble.”

Jeno hums in agreement, dumbly chewing on his food as he stares at the unfolding disorder. Jaemin speaks again when he realises, “oh my god, is that Mark?”

Jeno chokes and Jaemin immediately turns to him. He smacks his back and asks if he’s okay, while Jeno vigorously shakes his head because, obviously, he isn’t. Not because Mark may have caused a huge disaster that’ll most probably cost him fortunes. But because across the dining hall, was _him._ The young dancer from the show, sitting under the warm glow of the chandelier, illuminated and radiant.

“Jeno, drink some water.” Jaemin says, pushing the glass to his lips. “Then let’s go check if Mark’s alright.” He frowns. “Jeno?”

Jeno stays silent, transfixed on the beauty on the other side of the room. A new feeling surges through his veins, and Jeno feels like his being zapped. He jolts until he’s out of his seat, eyes never leaving the boy. His surroundings cloud away as his feet carry him across the hall and towards the raven beauty like they’ve got a mind of their own, and before Jeno has the chance to stop himself, he’s standing before the boy. The noise in the room dies down as the boy looks up at Jeno with question, ivory eyes reflecting like diamonds under the light. He screws his brows and Jeno snaps back to reality.

“Hi.”

The boy looks unamused, rightfully annoyed over the fact that a stranger had interrupted his dinner. “Can I help you?”

Jeno stumbles over his own breath before bursting out. “You looked beautiful in your performance today.”

Instantly the boy’s face falls into a smile and Jeno is knocked off his feet, quite literally, because he staggers back a bit. “Thank you.” He looks at his companion across, an equally beautiful man with soft features like his. _Birds of a feather really do flock together it seems._ The man across leans back in his seat and quirks a brow, eyes darting between Jeno and the dancer, biting his lip to hide a smirk. “I’d love to take a photo with you, but,” the dancer looks apologetic, “I’m off hours so…”

“Oh.” Jeno throws his hands up in defence, shaking them. He feels heat rise to his cheeks as the pretty boy tries to hide a smirk by pressing his lips together firmly. _Was it hot in here_? Jeno fluffs his dress-shirt, feeling beat. “That’s fine. I just wanted to, uh…” he rubs his nape and shyly looks at his feet. He felt small, like he was being scrutinized, and hated himself for bringing about the awkward situation. His gut lurches and the floor starts to tilt. What was wrong with him? He looks up and catches the beauty smiling at him, only for it to fall off when Jeno’s stomach wrenches again and he spews his dinner all over the boy’s shoes.

-

(“You have to admit. He is pretty cute.”

“Yes Jungwoo, he was cute. Until he threw up all over my feet.”

“I mean, that’s one way to someone’s heart.”)

-

Mark and Jaemin look on as Jeno stirs. Leaning back, as Jaemin tends to Jeno, caressing his head and coaxing him awake, he recalls the events of the previous night; how he destroyed thousands of dollars of dining-ware; how he now had to work to pay off his debt; how Jaemin had come running and screaming about Jeno supposedly dying; and finally, about how the auburn-haired boy sneering at him as he left the store, waving around a white uniform to remind him of his work tomorrow – today.

He wants death.

He hadn’t been able to tell Jeno or Jaemin yet – not with Jeno throwing up over a horrified dancer and then passing out, and Jaemin shrieking his head off and greying prematurely ever since. Mark concludes that they should all just go home. Jump in the ocean. Or something. The trip is turning out to be a terrible idea and he fears what the oncoming two weeks would bring.

Jeno groans, slowly rousing to life. Jaemin and Mark are by his side in a flash with water and vomit bags. Jeno squints at them, then pushes the bag away and reaches for the glass.

“What happened?”

Jaemin leans back and scowls, arms crossed over his chest. “That’s what we’d like to know.”

He teeters a bit in his spot, then his eyes shoot open as if his brain just caught up. “Oh no. No. No, no what have I done?! I – I completely – He’s going to hate me – I wanted to – His pretty face – oh god what is wrong with me why am I like this why do I do this –“

“Woah!” Jaemin says, holding Jeno’s hand in place before the latter can start smacking himself. “Easy. I apologised to Jun on the spot while I was hauling you away.” He pauses to think. “I don’t think he heard, not with all the shrieking he was doing. But that’s not the point, you probably had a bad reaction to the lobster. It’s not your fault.”

Jeno wails, pathetically and distressed still, flopping back onto the bed and pulling the covers over his head. Mark pats his head soothingly. He relates, sort of, having made an utter fool of himself likewise. Jaemin seems to read his mind, and turns to Mark with an expression of bewilderment crossed with amusement. “And what happened to you?”

Mark flinches, then wilts, slackening onto the bed and crushing Jeno under his weight. They both groan, Jeno more from pain then grief.

“I’m working at the restaurant until I’ve paid off what I ruined.” He says, words slurred and muffled from his face against the quilt. Jeno peers out from underneath, sharing a look of question with Jaemin. Mark elaborates. “I bumped into a waiter last night and made him drop everything he was holding –“

“ – we saw –“

“ – all of which amounted to more than my life so now I’m paying with my body.” He finishes. Jaemin starts to giggle, Jeno joining him, then they burst into a fit of laughter. Mark slaps Jeno and hisses that he shouldn’t be one to laugh, and Jeno clams up.

“You’re unreal Mark Lee. I mean, Jeno is dumb, but you are UNREAL.” Jaemin hollers, throwing himself on top of Mark, making a human stack. Jeno whines about being in pain, and Mark joins him for the same reason and just because he felt it was due. Jaemin continues cackling, finding amusement at his friends’ sudden misfortune.

“Idiot. Now who will you hang out with now that I’m busy and Jeno is probably most definitely beginning hermit life now?”

Jaemin stops laughing. “Fuck.”

-

The theatre room echoes with the sound of hushed voices, as they wait for the performance to begin. Jeno shifts in his seat, feeling jittery, palms sweating. It is the Chinese performers’ – as Jeno’s learnt from the pamphlet – second performance out of the five they’d be doing throughout the duration of the two-week Asia-pacific tour. Given any other situation, Jeno would be stoked to witness another mesmerising act. But with the way things had played out the night before, he doesn’t think he can sit through the show without sinking onto the floor, lest Jun see him again.

Despite what Mark said about Jeno adopting the life of a hermit – which he had considered greatly – Jaemin advised him to go see Jun after the show and apologise directly.

_“It’ll be better coming from you. Then maybe if he forgives you, you’ll come out of your little blanket cave and hang out with me.”_

The theatre begins to hush, lights begin to dim, and immediately Jeno wants to run back to his suite and dive under the covers. He can’t imagine Jun’s face if he sees him, can’t imagine the disgusted look that’ll grace his _oh so pretty_ face. Rubbing his palms on his jeans, slouched on the edge of his seat, his stomach flips and _oh lord have mercy, not again._

Taking a deep breath, he tries to relax into the seat as the curtains begin to part.

The stage lights flicker on, illuminating Sicheng in a golden bath as he starts the performance, inhaling deeply as he lets the music numb his senses and sways to the slow tune. It gradually picks up, and Sicheng throws his hands to the side and pulls. Jun tumbles in, a thin string of tiny bells is tied to his hair, and they jingle as he makes his entrance. The gentle tinkling sound reverberates throughout his body, and Jeno holds his breath, as the two set the stage alight with a slow yet sharp routine, bending their bodies to the song, like flowers do in the wind. The spotlight shifts as Jun spins on his feet, the bells ringing with every turn, drawing all eyes to him as the entire room stares in awe. For a split second, he halts and frown, spotting Jeno’s astonished in the third row, sitting on the edge of his seat. Among the hundreds of faces, Jeno is the only one he sees, awestruck and full of wonder, before he tears his eyes away and resumes his stance. Sicheng notices and sneaks him a pointed look, which he promptly ignores, focusing on the music, and not on a relatively cute boy who puked all over him yet dared to show his face. When the music slows to a stop, Jun grabs Sicheng’s hand and they take a deep bow. He doesn’t lift his head until the curtains cut off all contact between the stage, and the world beyond.

Shivers run down Jeno’s spine as the curtains close. Their eyes meet briefly, and it's enough to skyrocket Jeno’s heart to the stratosphere. His heart hammers against his ribs and shakes his bones, his fingers twitch with every thundering beat. The lights blink on, and a roar of applause sounds around the theatre, snapping Jeno out of his daze. The sound eventually dies down as people trickle out of the hall, murmuring excitedly about the performance, while Jeno stays rooted to his seat.

_Now’s the time._

As the room empties out, Jeno side steps past the crowd to slip backstage, checking to make sure no guards could see him. He spots the two at the door busy guiding the crowd safely up the steps and out, so he takes his chance. He follows the trail of lamps and wires, letting his instinct do the rest, until he arrives at a hallway with three doors. Judging by the large gold stars taped to the front of two of them, Jeno guesses that they’re the dressing rooms. He looks around, as if waiting to get caught so he could be thrown back to his suite or even off the ship so he’ll never have to face Jun again, but the hall remains empty. Drawing a sharp breath, he walks up to the first star-spangled door, preparing to knock, but he stops. Taking a step back, he looks between the two doors. A gut feeling, or some gravitational force, (or fate,) pulls him towards the second door. As Jeno floats over, raising his fist to knock, the door swings open so violently Jeno’s almost blown away.

Jun stumbles back and blinks up at him in surprise.

Jeno sucks a gust of wind into his lungs, regaining all the breath he had lost a few seconds ago.

“Hi.”

-

Mark blankly stares at the flamingo-pink t-shirt held up against his face. Taking it into his hand, he frowns at it, then at the sneering boy before him.

“Why can’t I wear what you’re wearing?” He asks, pointing at the pressed white tunic Donghyuck – as he’s learnt – was wearing.

“Because,” Donghyuck places his hands firmly on his hips, puffing out his chest, “you’re just a dish-boy, and this,” he waves over his torso, “is for chefs only.”

Mark gawks. All this time, he had thought Donghyuck was a waiter. He didn’t have a shred of professionalism, or by the looks of it, responsibility, to be a chef in the most esteemed restaurant on the ship. Donghyuck slaps his back hard enough to make Mark stumble forward. He throws back a glare as Donghyuck grins at him, hands resting back on his hips. “Chop-chop newbie! We don’t pay you to stand around and look pretty!” He says, pushing past Mark, then turning back to snigger. “Oh wait. We _don’t_ pay you, that’s the whole arrangement after you destroyed all the food I bent my back for.”

Mark watches Donghyuck’s cackling back disappear into the kitchen. Looking back at the horrendous shirt in his hand, he sighs, and sucks it up.

During midday, _7 Seas_ is fairly quiet. Most diners were either families with screaming children gagging at the seafood, or seniors coming in for a leisurely lunch. Mark stands at the counter, relating to the look of annoyance upon an old lady’s face as she glowers at a screeching little girl, whilst trying to enjoy her lunch. Mark already hates it here, but compared to a restaurant full of demonstrative couples and stoic businessmen, this is better. Thankfully, the _contract_ he had signed – more a napkin filled with Donghyuck’s chicken-scratch writing – ruled that he’d only work from noon and finish right before dinner preparations began. This will be followed over for the next two weeks – weekdays only – until Mark has paid off his debt. Leaning back against the counter, Mark sighs. His so-called relaxing trip had slipped out from under his feet the moment he crashed into Donghyuck.

“Mark! Move your ass!” Donghyuck yells from the kitchen. Mark scurries back, not wanting to rile Donghyuck up any further and be given more work.

The doors swing behind him as Mark meets a sea of white. The entire kitchen, from top to bottom, is adorned with white cabinets and benches and counters, save for the appliances that were a stunningly silver steel. The massive kitchen sparkled under the glaring lights, equally white, and Mark could feel his pupils shrink from the brightness. He squints at the workers in pressed, white shirts, and frowns at his own flaming pink one. Donghyuck sashays towards him with a smirk.

“I’m the only one in pink.” Mark deadpans the obvious.

Donghyuck shrugs. “That’s the only one we had left.”

“How do you even _have_ a pink shirt? It looks like you have nothing but white in here anyways.”

Donghyuck shrugs again. “Your station’s that way.” He says, pointing towards the back where large sinks and hose pipes lay, and Mark sees the faintest traces of pink dye tinging tan skin. Mark gapes at his hands, then at Donghyuck’s face, which contorts into a cheeky grin. Before Mark can accuse him, Donghyuck gets called over by a man that looks like he’s walked out of a manhwa, or belongs on a runway, or both. The grin instantly gets wiped off Donghyuck’s face as he runs over to the man, face drawn to seriousness. The duality throws Mark off balance. He awkwardly stands at the front of the kitchen, ignored by the staff who scamper past him with trays and bowls. Mark gulps, when a large hand comes to rest on his shoulder. Snapping his head around, he meets the smiling face off the tall man from the night before.

“Wow newbie, nice shirt! Donghyuck’s own handiwork I’m guessing?” Mark nods, making the tall man throw his head back in laughter that booms even louder in the white room. He spoke less formally than last night, and Mark’s thrown off again. Not one person bats an eyelid at them, and Mark wonders if they’re all just used to it. “I’m Youngho, but you can call me Johnny. Good to have you on board.” Mark mumbles a soft _thanks_ , but it goes unheard as Johnny continues, “You’ll be working with Jungwoo and Yuta over by those sinks.” He points at the two men respectively, a tall blond and a shorter man, that had their backs turned to them “Those two are total duds with the stove, so they work with cleaning. They’ll teach you the ropes!” He pushes Mark a bit further into the room, “you’ve got Taeyong and Jaehyun over there with Hyuckie. Taeyong’s the executive chef here, Jaehyun’s his assistant, and Hyuckie’s head-cook in training to be executive one day.” He says in one breath. Mark follows his pointing hand, spotting Donghyuck, through the silver pans and spoons hanging atop the stoves. His tan skin contrasts heavily against the bleached room, much like the sun came to play in the snow. The manhwa-man, Taeyong, pats his back fondly, mouthing praises that make Donghyuck’s earthy skin bloom, and Mark thinks of flower seedlings budding and growing on rich, barren soil and life starting fresh and new. He shakes the thought away.

_Whatever that was._

Johnny continues to show Mark around the large kitchen, and eventually, he relaxes. If anything, Johnny seems nice and Mark feels that with him around, his shifts here won’t be so dreadful. “You’ll meet the wait-staff later, most of us work at night, when it’s more busy, you know?” Mark nods. Johnny slaps his back, propelling Mark’s thin frame towards the sinks. “Have fun. Work hard!” Johnny bellows as he walks away, waving back with his hand, as he grabs a fresh plate of food and walks out to the dining hall. Mark turns around and jumps as Yuta’s face looms close to his.

“You’re the kid Hyuck keeps rambling about.” He says, pointing right up in Mark’s face.

Mark looks down at his finger, going cross-eyed, “that’s me.” He looks back up at Yuta, blinking his eyes back to normal. Yuta throws an arm around Mark’s shoulder and _wow these people are really touchy_ –

“Welcome. Let’s get you started, shall we?”

-

Jeno awkwardly fiddles with the hem of his shirt as Jun scrutinizes him from the door.

“What are you doing here?”

Jeno flounders, “oh! Uh. I’m Jeno, huge fan and, uh, I wanted to. Uh. Say sorry for – you know – what happened –“

“Oh.” Jun cuts him off, body slacking against the doorframe and arms loosely folding over his chest, “it’s cool. I mean, no. Not really. It was disgusting. But, you were sick. What can we do?”

“Right.” Jeno’s buzzed brain supplies. Jun looks at him for a few seconds, then stands upright.

“If that’s all then – “

“Yeah.” Jeno is just standing there looking stupid. Jun probably has better things to do than watch some socially inept boy choke up. “I’ll see you around I guess.” He doesn’t wait for a reply, simply spins on his heels and marches back the way he came. If he had stayed, perhaps let his eyes linger for a bit longer, he’d notice the slightly crestfallen expression that briefly sped over Jun’s face. But Jeno’s too busy wallowing in self-pity to pay attention.

Jeno skids to a halt upon the maze of wires and lights leading back to the theatre. The universe is giving him a crucial opportunity to make something of his meeting with Jun, to gain something from this trip. He doesn’t know if it’s chance, or fate, but what Jeno realises, under a flickering stage-light that needs to be fixed, is that he needs to act before it’s too late.

Making a sharp turn, rubber soles squeaking against the floor, he marches back to the hallway. Arriving back at the dressing room, he raps against the door until a confused and irritated looking Jun peeks his head out, face pinched. Jeno takes a deep breath. “I was thinking I’d make it up to you.” He says, almost robotically, chest puffed and staring straight ahead rather than at Jun. “Can I please take you out sometime?”

Jeno holds his breath as Jun gives him a once-over, chewing his lips when his eyes come back to rest on Jeno’s hard expression. He chokes back a laugh, face immediately breaking into remorse, “I’m sorry. That’s really sweet, but we aren’t allowed to mingle with patrons. It’s in our contract – strictly business only.”

Jeno releases the breath he’s been holding and sags, not even attempting to mask his disappointment. Of course, Jun can’t go out with him. What was Jeno even thinking, that he could just slide his way in and ask out a guy who barely knows him as anything more than just another star-struck fan. Jun probably gets asked out heaps, and judging by his practiced tone, Jeno affirms it. Bottom line is that Jun’s just a star that’s way out of reach, way out of Jeno’s league, and frankly Jeno has no chance. Accepting defeat with a curt nod and a choked, “it’s all good.” Jeno leaves with a quick farewell and polite smile, zooming out of the hallway and theatre.

The scenery passes by in a blur with Jeno speeding back to his suite, weaving between the crowd. He arrives at his room and slams the door shut, eliciting a deep groan that rumbles from within his chest, flopping straight on to the nearest bed – Jaemin’s. Bathroom door clicking open, Jaemin steps out in a bathrobe and judges Jeno’s form, face planted firmly into the comforter.

“Don’t tell me,” he starts, feeling an ulcer forming from stress, “you threw up again?” Jeno shakes his head against the cotton, face surely to be red from fabric burns later. Jaemin breathes in relief, sinking down onto the mattress beside Jeno. “Oh, thank god. So, what happened?”

Jeno lifts his face, “I said sorry. He seemed disgusted. I asked him out. He said no. What was I thinking?” And down his face goes again.

“Oh well naturally he was dis-WHAT? YOU DID WHAT?” Jaemin shrieks, jumping off the bed to pull Jeno upright. The latter’s limp form whines, head lolling to one side as he continues to groan. “I trust you enough to let you go by yourself and you start canoodling with him instead?!”

Jeno turns and squints at Jaemin. “What the fuck is canoodling? And whatever it is, it didn’t happen, because I was rejected.” Jeno waits for Jaemin to speak, but gets encouraged to explain further instead, “he isn’t allowed. Contract rules says so.”

Jaemin slowly nods in understanding, then shifts to deviously smirk at Jeno. “I didn’t realise you liked him like that.”

Jeno has half the heart to deny it; defend his pride by claiming it to be admiration – except Jeno knows it’s not. He’s only seen Jun a couple of times, short meetings each, yet he can’t help the surging sensation in his heart, the elatedness he feels, whenever he sees Jun. He wants to get to know him better, as friends or something more didn’t matter. Jeno flops back onto the bed, another groan rumbling out of his body. Jaemin pats his cheeks sympathetically, then shuffles back into the bathroom, promising to take Jeno out for some fun to lighten his mood. Burying his face back into the mattress, Jeno recalls Jun’s dry expression when Jeno showed up at his dressing room, and the way he had casually brushed off Jeno’s apology and date-request, as if it happened all the time.

Disappoint reforms itself at the pit of his stomach. It’s foolish, and quite bold, on his part, to fall for such a boy whom hundreds of other people may have seen in the same light – even more so to expect anything to come out of his feelings. But, Jeno can’t help it. He’s intrigued. Something about Jun pulls at his heart, and makes Jeno never want to take his eyes off him. He’s a beautiful enigma, with a mischievous glint in his eyes and breathtaking form of dancing, that Jeno _needs_ to know more about, _needs_ to discover what makes him so captivating.

Flipping over onto his back, Jeno fishes the pamphlet out of his jeans’ pocket, unfolding it to the silhouette of Jun. Tracing his fingers over the golden calligraphy of his name, his heart pounds against his ribs. Jeno smiles. He feels a challenge coming on.

-

Mark dramatically slides down the side of the sink, collapsing onto the floor in a pile of worn limbs. His arms and legs ache from exertion, not used to working so hard for so long, or at all. Back at the dorm, Jaemin handled the kitchen, not trusting Jeno or Mark anywhere near it, and so Mark had little experience with washing an endless stream of dishes. The dishes weren’t just small plates either; pots and pans big enough to engulf Mark’s whole body made an appearance half-way through his shift, and he almost fell in while trying to hose down the grease. Fortunately, Jungwoo and Yuta helped him out a lot, aiding him with the difficult stains and chatting him out of boredom. The day may have started off slow, but got busy as the day dragged on, bringing in more orders and thereby more dishes to clean. Yet, Mark found the experience bearable and (sort of) fun with the kitchen staff around, constantly making jabs and jokes at one another as they set out order after order.

Donghyuck, Mark discovers, is more than what their first encounters entailed. Other than his snappy and snarky persona, he is focused and serious in terms of his work. He listens well to Taeyong and Jaehyun’s advice, and is always chirpy after he’s complimented – even if half the compliments are fished for. He stops riling Mark up after the first hour, even bringing him food and drinks, to which Mark eyed him suspiciously – earning himself a pinch from Donghyuck.

_“You’re a newbie, so as your senior, I have to take care of you.”_

He talks a lot, jumping into long stories and then spiralling off on tangents so jumbled that he forgets his original story. Within the first day, Mark learns that Donghyuck comes from a line of educators; all his family were either teachers, or professors, or something along the lines of academic administration. Wanting to venture away from tradition, _be different_ – he said – Donghyuck studied and trained from a young age to become a chef, justifying his career path to his parents with his love for food.

“At first, they were against it,” he says, on top of the counter, swinging his legs and munching a zombie chew, “but they were okay after some crying on my part and an attempt at running away.”

Mark shifts to his side and gives him a baffled look that goes ignored. He can’t even think of doing that – his father would kill him if he said he didn’t want to take over the business, and even worse if he tried to run away or cry. He looks down at the pair of legs thumping against the counter with every swing, and placing a hand on top of Donghyuck’s thigh, stops them. It was beginning to irk him. Donghyuck raises a brow at the hand, then turns to Mark just as the latter turns to him. For a second, their eyes meet and a spark flashes in the space between them. Mark’s heartbeat gets faster and louder, thumping in his ear, then Donghyuck blows a raspberry and lightly sprays Mark, ruining the moment.

Mark grimaces, rubbing his nose. “You’re so gross.”

Donghyuck retorts with a shove, almost throwing Mark off the edge, and hops off the counter. “Get out of here. You’re done for today.” Mark follows suit, heading to the back to change out of the ghastly shirt.

“Can I wear a normal shirt tomorrow. You made your point.”

Donghyuck feigns deep thought, tapping his chin and chewing his lip. “Hmm. You’re not too shabby, so, okay.” He finger-guns at him, and Mark cracks up. _He looks stupidly cute doing that._

As Mark leaves, waving goodbye to the staff, Donghyuck reminds him of his shift tomorrow. “I’ll see you tomorrow Mark Lee, don’t be late!” He finger-guns again, making Mark snort. Shaking his head, Mark walks out the kitchen with a smile. Now that he thinks about it, working isn’t as miserable as he thought it’d be.  Everyone in the kitchen is extremely friendly, and even Donghyuck is nice to talk to – or listen to, most of the time. Besides, there’s only so much Mark can do on the ship before he gets bored, so working can fill the times he would’ve otherwise spent napping or repeating activities.

It’s a little into the evening when Mark returns to his single suite. He takes a quick shower, his already pruned fingers becoming more scratchy and rough, then heads out to Jaemin and Jeno’s room the hall.

He barges in to find Jeno hanging half off the bed, and frowns. “What happened to him, again?”

Jaemin looks at Jeno from his bed, then turns to Mark and shrugs. “He’s in love.”

Mark guffaws, and Jeno flips over to scowl at Jaemin. “No, I’m not! Stop saying that!”

“You’ve been sighing and groaning and muttering the whole day, get a grip! You’re in love with some guy who’s most likely disgusted by you, and probably doesn’t care about you.”

“Wait,” Mark interrupts, “is this about the guy who he puked on? The dancer?” He looks at Jeno and gapes, “Jeno. No. Don’t.”

Jeno whines and rolls onto the floor, “he’s so beautiful. I’m going to die.”

Jaemin rubs at his temples, “yes, you are. Jeno be realistic. I’d support you, but, come on. You can’t seriously be after this guy.”

Jeno makes another inhuman noise, “I can’t help it! He’s so beautiful.”

Jaemin throws his hands up in annoyance, shifting his attention to Mark as he takes a seat on the bed. “How was your day?” Jeno perks up and scampers to the other bed, folding his arms over and resting his head, ready to listen. Mark thinks, that at least his situation is better than Jeno’s. Ruffling Jeno’s hair, he tells them about his day.

“ – and the staff were so nice. Pretty handsy, but friendly. Donghyuck was okay too, never shuts up though. But it’s fine, it’s less boring with him around, constantly yapping and joking with everyone. But, oh my god, his cooking is amazing. Completely unexpected! Wow, he’s so good.” Mark drifts back to the plate of seafood pasta Donghyuck had cooked for them both, salivating at the thought. “So good.” He mutters, and Jaemin and Jeno give him suspicious looks. “The food.” Mark deadpans in defence. “The food was so good.”

They let it go, and Mark breathes a sigh of relief. His heart had quickened its pace, for some strange reason, and he shifts uncomfortably. _Weird. It was like this before too._

He forcibly shrugs it off and diverts his attention to Jaemin and his recount of the day, about some old lady on the sky-deck who fell asleep in the jacuzzi. But Mark’s barely listening. He can’t hear, because all he’s thinking about is Donghyuck, and his cooking, and his legs, and his skin, and his own heart now buzzing in his chest.

-

Jeno slips his leather jacket on, fixes his hair, and grabs his phone from the nightstand. The cruise docks in Japan today, and Jeno made plans to take Jun out for some sightseeing. It’s the perfect excuse; once they are off the boat, Jun is technically no longer an employee and Jeno, technically no longer a passenger – so Jun has no reason to say no to a date, unless he just isn’t interested. The thought makes Jeno’s heart rise in his throat, knowing he’ll have to back off. Crossing his fingers, Jeno prays for the best.

Jaemin emerges clean and dressed from the bathroom, doing a little twirl when Jeno looks back at him. “Amazing. I know.”

Jeno rolls his eyes, “let’s go.”

They knock on Mark’s door, who opens it and pouts when they invite him out. “I can’t. I have work.”

Jaemin dramatically staggers back, “no. You can’t! We’re supposed to go sightseeing together!” Mark’s pout deepens as he apologises again.

Reluctantly, they leave Mark and head out to the pier. The ship is already docking at Tokyo port, and Jaemin runs over to the rails excitedly. Jeno looks around at the gathering crowd, ready to head off and explore the city of the rising sun. He thinks about Jun, and wonders if he’s planning to go out as well. Looking back at Jaemin, guilt rises to his throat.

“Jaemin,” he says, cautiously making his way over and putting a hand on his shoulder, “I’m going to go find Jun.”

Jaemin whips his head around. “What?”

Jeno clears his throat, “I’m going to ask him out, for sightseeing.”

“You’re ditching me?” Jaemin near-shouts, splaying his hand over his chest in hurt. Jeno has the decency to express remorse, sheepishly looking down at his feet and mumbling an apology. Jaemin gapes, then turns around to face the oncoming port. “Fine. Suit yourself. I’ll go to the hot springs alone and have a _great_ time without both of you.”

Jeno pulls him in for a bone-crushing hug, squeezing the life out of his best friend, knowing full well that despite what he says, Jaemin will always support him. “Thank you! I love you!”

Jaemin groans, then ruffles Jeno’s hair lovingly, “go get him.”

Jeno nods, then rushes away, weaving between the crowd to go find Jun.

He shortly arrives at the dressing room, knocking on the door to find no answer. He frowns. Jun didn’t _live_ in his dresser, so Jeno can’t expect him to be here always. But, he doesn’t know his suite number, and where else would he look for him? Just as he’s about to turn back, a tall man, Sicheng, enters the hallway, stopping once he spots Jeno, and Jeno does the same, standing awkwardly rigid.

“Oh, you’re _that_ guy.” Sicheng says, and Jeno can only dumbly nod, not sure how Sicheng came to know of him. “Are you looking for Renjun?”

What? Jeno thinks, then colours once he realises he voiced the thought aloud and how awfully rude it sounded.

“Jun. Renjun.” Sicheng says, matter-of-factly, and Jeno connects the dots.

_Renjun._

“He’s in his suite. Want me to take you there?”

Jeno nods, following Sicheng out. From the side, he peers up at Sicheng, admiring his delicate features. He wonders if it’s a thing for the dancers to be exceptionally beautiful; if it is something in the music or the dancing that makes them celestial, unreal, and poised. Sicheng practically floats on the ground, whereas Jeno sort of stomps in comparison, he realises as they walk to Renjun’s suite.

They arrive at a hall with a mat that says _Staff Only Residence_. Stepping over it, Sicheng turns to the second door on the right and knocks, Jeno standing shyly behind him. The door opens to reveal a sleepy Renjun, hair gorgeously tussled from the bed, rubbing at his eyes. Sicheng frowns. “It’s noon. What are you even doing sleeping?”

Renjun yawns, smoothing down his hair. “Give me a break, me and Hyuck were out till late last night.”

Sicheng tuts, “anyways, I have someone here to see you.” He wiggles his brows, then steps aside to reveal Jeno, who jerks from the sudden exposure. Sicheng discretely slips away, leaving Renjun to stare at Jeno, baffled.

“What are you doing here?”

Jeno clears his throat, looking directly into Renjun’s eyes. “Good afternoon Jun – I mean Renjun – I was wondering if you would like to go sightseeing with me, seeing as we are in Tokyo. With us off the boat, we should be free to go out.” He robots, like he practiced the night before while Jaemin was asleep, “only if you want to. It’s not even a date. It’s just an outing. As friends. Or acquaintances. Or whatever…” he trails off.

Renjun continues to stare at him, then his face pinches with both question and amusement. “I already told you, I can’t. If I… if I get friendly with you, then I have to make more excuses for other… fans. I’m really sorry. You’re cute, but – “

Jeno cuts him off by shaking his head and smiles, “that’s okay! Worth a try anyways. I’ll see you around.” He turns to walk away, head heavy and heart sinking to his stomach.

“Wait.” He stops. Renjun chews his lips, “wait here.” Jeno turns around in his spot, watching Renjun fumble around in his apartment, fiddle with his phone, then return to the door. “I’ll… I’ll meet you out on the main deck, by the gates.” He says, then shuts the door.

Jeno stands there, winded, and not fully registering what just happened. It clicks after a while, and he jumps on the spot, silently cheering. Quickly, he composes himself and makes sure no one was around to witness whatever that was, and rushes to the deck, feeling giddy and victorious.

 

Jeno checks his watch for the fifth time. It’s been half an hour, and Renjun is nowhere to be seen. He sighs, leaning back on the bench, trying to drown the probing worry that Renjun may have bailed on him. This was a bad idea, and Jeno should’ve just gone with Jaemin. Feeling heartbroken, he rises and decides to call Jaemin, let him know that he’ll be joining him after all, when he spots Renjun running towards him. Spotting Jeno, Renjun slows to a brisk pace, fringe being blown back by the wind and simultaneously launching Jeno’s heart off the ship. He looks breathtaking.

“I’m so sorry. I couldn’t figure out what to wear.” Renjun says, sheepishly fiddling with his hoodie, shoving his hands in and out of his jacket pockets.

Jeno shakes his head, “it’s okay. You look great.”

Renjun colours prettily, eyes shimmering brightly at the compliment. He clears his throat, stepping past Jeno and gesturing for him to follow. “Let’s go then.”

-

The kitchen was moving painstakingly slow. With almost all the passengers off the ship, there restaurant was quiet and there was awfully little to do. Most of the staff had gone off as well, leaving Mark and Donghyuck alone in the kitchen with a few wait-staff and Taeyong, who was planning a themed menu for the three days they’d be docked in Japan.

Mark devours another row of rice-crackers, not caring for the high-carbs he is consuming on this trip. By the time he gets back to campus, he’s going to end up with a pot-belly. Donghyuck takes a seat beside him on the counter, stealing a row of crackers, eating them one by one.

“It’s a slow day, huh?”

Mark nods. “Yeah.” He feels bleak, and sorry for himself, desperately wanting to be out with his friends. Jaemin mentioned going to the hot springs, and oh, how Mark _yearned_ for the hot springs.

Donghyuck gives him a sympathetic look, feeling apologetics for keeping Mark on a day like this, away from exploring Tokyo. He presses his lips together, then open his mouth to speak, hesitantly. “Taeyong says we don’t have to stay. Wanna go out?”

Mark gawks, looking at Donghyuck in shock, nearly choking on his cracker.

“No.” Donghyuck defends quickly, “I meant, do want to go to the city, with me. I was planning to head out, but everyone’s already got their little groups, and Renjun’s god knows where…”

“Sure.” Mark says with a shrug. Jaemin and Jeno had already left, and meeting up would be tough. He’s got nothing to lose, spending the day with Donghyuck, and he’d rather anything over wasting his day eating crackers on a counter. Donghyuck visibly brightens, jumping off the counter, pulling Mark down with him. “Move it then! Tokyo isn’t waiting!”

“Actually –“ it is. They _are_ docked for three days. But, Mark figures Donghyuck won’t care, so he doesn’t continue, and lets Donghyuck drag him out of the kitchen.

 

It’s slightly chilly at the port, and Donghyuck, in a frenzy to get ready, forgot his jacket. His shirt flaps with the wind, cool air seeping through the fabric and nipping at his skin, making him shiver. He rubs his arms, trying to warm himself up as they climb into the tour bus to the city. Donghyuck lets Mark take the window seat, saying that he’s been here before so Mark should see the view, and basks in the warmth of the overhead heating vent. Mark presses his face to the glass as the bus rolls on, passing the port and eventually driving in to the city. Tall buildings come to view, towering and lit with billboards and signs. The streets bustle with life and colour, crowds of people hoarding stalls and sidewalks. It’s a little overwhelming, and Mark’s sort of glad they’re inside the bus, for now.

Not long after, the bus stops and Donghyuck tugs at his sleeve, dragging him off. He first takes him to a small ramen stall, claiming that he needs to fill up and warm up before they begin touring. Mark doesn’t argue, being hungry himself, and takes a seat beside him. The little shop is packed, and it takes a while before their orders are taken and arrive. Donghyuck rubs his hands together as the chef places their bowls before them, bowing in apology for the wait and sending them a warm smile. Mark smiles back after he’s already turned around.

Donghyuck obnoxiously slurps on the noodles, sucking them up in long ropes. Mark holds a hand up near his face to avoid getting sprayed by the hot soup flicking from Donghyuck’s side, as he eats his own, biting off the long noodles.

Donghyuck watches him eat and frown. “That’s bad luck.” He warns, pointing at Mark as he breaks more noodles with his mouth, broken strands falling back into the soup.

“What?”

“Breaking off your noodles. It’s bad luck.”

Mark frowns, “says who?”

“I don’t know.” Donghyuck sighs, “it’s just a thing. So, don’t do it.”

“Why do you care?”

Donghyuck stutters, eyes darting away from Mark’s scrutinising gaze. “No reason. Just don’t do it. I don’t think you need any more bad luck in your life, Mark Lee.”

From recent events, Mark supposes he’s right. So, he stops breaking off his noodles and eats them whole. He’s not one for superstitions – doesn’t believe them. But, a part of him believes Donghyuck, and the way he looked at Mark made him _want_ to believe in him. When Mark slurps his ramen, Donghyuck smirks, triumphantly. Mark doesn’t look back at him.

 

“Is there any place in particular you wanted to see?” Donghyuck asks, licking his matcha soft-serve. They’d left the stall an hour ago, aimlessly strolling through the busy streets of Tokyo. Donghyuck had stopped at random stores to buy gifts for his siblings and friends, while Mark simply followed. They also stopped at a cute ice cream shop when Mark saw the ad on the window, a watermelon slice hollowed out and filled with pink soft-serve. One look at Mark’s shining eyes made Donghyuck push them into the store and order some, despite the weather, and leave with more ice cream.

Mark contemplates, then shakes his head, shoving the last of his cone into his mouth.

“Not really. I didn’t think about it much.”

Donghyuck hums, then hooks his arm through Mark’s, startling him, and grins, “looks like I’ll have to be your tour guide then. Follow me.”

As Donghyuck drags him away, Mark thinks, he doesn’t have much of a choice.

-

“Oh my god,” Renjun squeals, bouncing on the spot, “I’ve always wanted to come here!”

He turns on his feet, marvelling at the theme park surrounding them. Jeno didn’t have an itinerary planned out for them, he was simply going to take Renjun wherever he wanted to go. When asked, Renjun had brightened and blurted Disneyland, thus bringing them to the massive, Tokyo Disney Resort.

Jeno whips out his camera and snaps a shot of Renjun looking up at the _Ikspiari_ sign overhead, then down at the map. From a distance, his already small frame looked even smaller in the lens, and Jeno couldn’t help but want to pick him up and carry him around. Putting down his camera, he squashes the feeling.

Renjun bounds over excitedly, grabbing Jeno by his sleeve. “Let’s go to Disney Sea first.” He says, tugging Jeno towards the monorail line. The train arrives shortly, a cream coloured vehicle with Mickey Mouse shaped windows that make Renjun gasp, and Jeno’s heart soar at the sight of his twinkling eyes. His fingers itch to take another photo of Renjun, boarding the train with quick, light steps, grinning widely – but, Renjun’s already beckoning him over, and Jeno figures he’ll capture some things in his eyes and file them away in his heart instead.

“Sorry if this wasn’t your plan.” Renjun says, turning away from the window to look at Jeno. The railway extends over the resort, above the trees and displaying the entire park in birds-eye view that makes Jeno feel like they’re flying. It looks magnificent, and Jeno’s toes tingle with excitement, finally resonating Renjun. “This is childish, I know.”

“No.” Jeno smiles, “I like it. I’m excited too.” He leans back comfortably, “I’ve never been to Disneyland, so this is a first and I’m looking forward to it.” He faces Renjun, sincerely smiling in full force, “thank you for coming with me.”

Renjun looks taken back, then relaxes, a pleasant rosy hue tinging his cheeks. He looks back out the window, and Jeno catches his shy smile in the tinted glass.

They stop at _Disney station_ , heading to the _Disney Sea_ , passing by a glorious water show that Renjun insists Jeno take photos of him with. He doesn’t stop to wait for Jeno, forging ahead to another attraction while Jeno flicks through the photos and scuffles behind him, distracted by Renjun’s cuteness on the screen, until the real one walks back to grab Jeno’s arm and yank him away.

At a gift shop, Renjun buys himself some Mickey Mouse ears, and insists Jeno get a pair as well.

“To fit in with the culture.” He says, putting on the headband and checking himself in the mirror.

“What culture?”

“The Disney culture silly. God, you’re so _un_ cultured.”

Jeno laughs as Renjun rolls his eyes, then he buys a pair for himself, admiring the way both him and Renjun were matching. Renjun catches Jeno staring at him through the mirror, and turns away.

The day passes by in a hazy blur. Jeno loses himself in the attractions and activities; laughing along with Renjun on the rides, eating too much food and too much sugar, and taking candid shots of Renjun, living, breathing, laughing, beside him. They don’t spend too much time at each attraction, knowing they have a time limit and more in Tokyo to see. Renjun buys a few keepsakes for his friends, and Jeno does the same, buying a Winnie the Pooh hat for Jaemin, and a Peter Pan one for Mark.  Unwillingly, they leave the park after almost three hours, and by the time they’re on the train back, Jeno’s legs are aching.

He props his leg up and massages them. “I think I’ve walked enough for the rest of my life.”

Renjun scoffs, “you’re so unfit. You were burnt out twenty minutes in.”

“Because you’re always running!”

“How were we meant to see the whole park otherwise? We only have three days and I want to go shopping!”

Jeno sighs in defeat, going back to easing the stiff pain out of his legs. Renjun switches to the seat across, facing Jeno, and lifts his leg onto his lap, massaging his calf. Jeno goes rigid, then relaxes at the touch of his hands, effortlessly soothing the dull ache away. Renjun straightens the leg of his jeans, crumpled from the rubbing, then beckons for Jeno to put the other one up, and does the same.

“Thanks.”

Renjun smiles at him, eyes hidden behind his fringe, but Jeno doesn’t miss the spark.

-

Donghyuck stretches his arms out towards the sky and chants, “lo and behold! The Imperial Palace!”

Surrounding tourist throws judging looks at Donghyuck, as he places his hands on his hips and marches through the gates like he owns the place. Mark mentally apologises to them, scurrying after Donghyuck.

“You know, the emperor still lives here, but he only comes out twice a year.” Donghyuck says, walking backwards as they cross the famous _Nijubashi Bridge_. Mark hums, focused on the guide and planning out where to go from their location. Donghyuck stops, and when Mark bumps into him, tears the paper away. “You don’t need that. You have me, and I’ve been here loads of times with Renjun.”

He fills the emptiness in Mark’s hand with his own, pulling him along. Mark’s arm grows feverish at the touch, heat burning his hand and crawling up his arm. He prays his usually clammy palms to stay dry, in case Donghyuck gets grossed out and lets go. Naturally, his prayers don’t work, but Donghyuck only holds on tighter.

“Don’t want you slipping away from me.” He says, lacing their fingers together.

They leisurely walk through the public grounds, stopping for more soft-serve by the monument of _Kusunoki Masashige._ Despite Donghyuck’s sniffling, he continues to lap at his ice cream, licking the cream smeared on his lips. He cracks jokes, Mark doubles over in laughter, and he tells stories about the last time he came here with Renjun, and stories about the kitchen, and – so on, so forth. Mark feels at ease, listening to Donghyuck ramble on, filling in the gaps of silence with his melodious voice, musical laughter.

Passing by the East Garden, _Tokagakudo_ , and the _Ninomaru_ Garden, Donghyuck stops to narrate the history of the site, as simply as reading off a textbook, and Mark wonders, as he takes pictures on his phone, just how many times Donghyuck has been here. He takes a photo of Donghyuck mid-speech, face horribly contorted in the moment, mouth agape and eyes screwed shut. He chuckles to himself, making Donghyuck rush over to see what was so funny, and then tackle Mark until he deleted the photo. Mark doesn’t, and moves the photo to a private folder instead.

Finally, they grab lunch and sit on the trimmed lawn of _Kitanomaru Park_ , lounging under the gradually warming afternoon sun. Donghyuck throws his disposable chopsticks into the plastic bag and ties it up for easy discarding, then lies down on his stomach. The sun starts to shine bolder, tickling his skin through his shirt.

“It’s like there’s a heat-pack on my back.” He mumbles, words slurred against the pressure of the grass against his cheek. Mark snorts, looking up from his phone to give Donghyuck a look of _what-the-fuck_.  He also says it, and Donghyuck chides him. “Shut up, I’m serious. Lie down, the grass is freshly manicured and it feels amazing. You’ll get me.”

Mark takes his advice, setting his phone down to lie beside Donghyuck, facing the sun. He shields his eyes from the bright light, eventually closing them. Donghyuck’s right. It does feel like a heat-pack. The sun warms Mark’s stomach, making him feel weirdly relaxed. “This feels weird.”

Donghyuck chuckles – a hearty, dreamy sound. “I know right. Especially on your belly, it’d feel weird.”

“But, it’s nice.”

Donghyuck hums in agreement, shifting closer to Mark until his hair is just brushing Mark’s arm. “I hope you didn’t mind spending the day with me. Sorry if it was boring.” He mumbles, voice small and anxious and so unlike him that Mark turns his whole body to look at Donghyuck. By now, their bodies are centimetres apart, and Mark’s breath gently blows Donghyuck’s hair out of his eyes as he stares up at him, searching for some sort of reassurance.

Mark looks down at Donghyuck eyes, burning gold under the light, and Mark feels hotter than any sun could ever make him feel. He averts his eyes, but doesn’t turn away. “I had fun. Thanks for bringing me here.”

Mark looks back at Donghyuck in time to catch him blushing, sun-soaked skin ripening at the cheeks, and he thinks of the earth and flowers and life again. Of summer sun and holidays and the sizzling sound when ice cream meets scalding pavement. Of shorts and scraped knees and chlorine pools and oceans and sand between toes and – it’s ironic because it’s not even summer.

Donghyuck makes Mark think of summer.

Mark wants to see the summer Donghyuck brings.

The summer Donghyuck is.

A dreadful wave builds in his stomach, and a ticking at the back of his mind warns him of time, tells him he’ll never get to see it, because he’ll never have this again after the two weeks are up. Mark blinks out of his daze, when the heat gets unbearable, sitting up to pull his jacket off. Donghyuck flops back onto his side, exhales deeply as if the weight of the world was sitting on his chest, then stands up, dusting the green blades off his jeans.

“Come on. I think we’ve been here long enough.”

-

Jeno flicks through the photos on his camera as Renjun orders their food. They’re at a humble sushi stall at a by-street, a change of scene from the busy restaurants at Tokyo’s heart, having an early dinner before they move on to their next stop. The sun is beginning to set, lighting the clouds on fire, orange and pink and yellow. The small shop is pungent with the smell of wasabi, soy-sauce, and fish – making Jeno crinkle his nose to block the scent from knocking him out.

Renjun returns with their food, taking the stool beside Jeno and leaning over to look at the pictures. “Oh! That’s so cute! You have to send me these.” He says, as he dips his sushi in sauce then stuffs it into his mouth.

Eating ensues in comfortable peace, then Renjun cuts the silence to recount the day, the rides, the activities, and Jeno nods in agreement as he gushes about them. He thanks Jeno again, for taking him out, bringing him to a place he’s always wanted to go to but never had the time for, and Jeno nearly chokes on his food when Renjun’s hand comes to rest on his thigh.

Coughing and spluttering, he chokes out a strained, “you’re welcome.”

Renjun panics and presses a glass of water to his lips, which Jeno graciously accepts. Renjun doesn’t let go, though, holding the glass and tilting it as Jeno drinks, and Jeno thinks he’s going to pass out if Renjun doesn’t remove his fingers from the back of his neck. He does, after Jeno’s calms down, hand sliding down and ghosting over Jeno’s thighs again.

Once they’re done, Renjun suggests they take the bus to _Asakusa_ , to see the _Senso-ji Temple_.

“It’s stunning at night.” Renjun explains as they board the bus. “They light the lamps and the streets are lined with stores that sell the cutest stuff, and everything’s alive and bright and,” he turns to Jeno, grinning from ear to ear, “it’s beautiful. Nothing in the world like it.”

Jeno begs to differ.

After a short ride, they arrive just near the station, deciding to walk through the district as they make their way towards the temple. The main shrine stands at the end of a long street, lined with stalls where food, lanterns, masks, toys, and precious paper goods are on sale. Entering through the _Kaminarimon_ gate, taking a picture of the gigantic paper lantern with the _Thunder Gate_ inscription, they stop along _Nakamise_ shopping street to buy some masks, and Renjun buys silk fabrics, embroidered and printed with wavy patterns and traditional designs, for his mother. He drags Jeno into taking a detour through the intersecting _Dempoin_ street, themed from the Edo era. It makes for great photos, and Jeno muses over compiling them all into a book, as an extra credit assignment, perhaps. Renjun makes exaggerated, dramatic poses by the ninja statues that were scattered across the street and on top of the buildings, and Jeno makes sure to capture every moment.

As the sun tips off the edge of the world, the lights begin to blink on, illuminating the streets and the buildings. They pass the inner gate and Jeno steps back to gape at the five-story pagoda, lit brilliant and bright in the dark night.

Jeno staggers behind Renjun as the latter tugs him along to the main shrine, in awe at the culture-rich, invigorating, and spiritual surroundings. Finally, at the _Senso-ji_ temple, Renjun makes a donation, for both of them, and they draw their fortunes. Neither of them can read what it says, though.

“What’s the point then?” Jeno asks.

Renjun shrugs, walking over to the designated area to tie his paper oracle. “I just have faith that it’s something good, and what’s best for me.”

Jeno looks down at his fortune paper, foreign letters scrawled onto the thin sheet, and he grips tighter. He wants to believe too, that whatever it is, it’s best for him. He ties it onto the bars, beside Renjun’s, and smiles at him, receiving a soft one in return. If there’s anything he believes in, it’s Renjun, and Jeno finds it scary how fast he’s falling, or how far he’s fallen already.

They peacefully walk back towards the main gate. The night is getting cold, and Jeno’s cheeks are beginning to sting from the cold wind. Their bags rustle against the breeze, and hair blows into a ruffled nest. Jeno pulls his coat on tighter around his chest, sinking his neck into the collar to defend his ears from the chill. Renjun slows behind him, watching as Jeno’s back continues to move forward, and suddenly, his throat closes, and he’s scared. A dull throbbing starts in his chest, and Renjun thinks, that this is exactly what he was afraid of.

Jeno notices the absence of warmth beside him, and whips his head around in search of Renjun. He turns fully, spotting Renjun a couple of strides back, standing rigid, and he makes his way towards him.

“Cold weather froze you solid?” He asks, lilt to his voice. Renjun looks up at him, glassy-eyed, and the smile immediately slips of Jeno’s face. “What’s wrong? Did I do something? Are you cold? Does it hurt somewhere?” He asks, holding Renjun by the shoulders and warming him up with comforting rubs.

Renjun shakes his head, gently pushing Jeno’s hands away. “I’m fine. It’s a little cold, that’s all.”

“I could hug the cold away if you want?” Jeno offers, wiggling his brows, and Renjun shoves him.

“No, Jeno. This isn’t – we’re not – “

Jeno shushes him, stepping to his side and placing a hand at the small of his back, “I know.” He lightly pushes Renjun forward, and they fall into step, making their way back to the boat.

-

“If we left earlier, we could’ve done more today.” Donghyuck slurs through a mouth full of meat and vegetables. Mark grimaces as a piece of leek hangs from his mouth.

As the day waned into evening, Mark and Donghyuck decided to call it a day, with dinner at a hot-pot restaurant before they went back – the perfect comfort food for the chilly evening. They sat at a corner booth, beside the window, light from the streets making up for the dim, yellow light of the restaurant. Even at such an hour, despite the chill and weariness, Tokyo never sleeps.

“God, you and Jaemin both. Monsters.”

Donghyuck stops chewing. “What?”

“Nothing.” Mark waves him off, shaking his head, “but still, today was great. We have tomorrow as well.”

Donghyuck slackens his grip on his chopsticks until they fall in a clutter into his bowl. He looks up at Mark with wide eyes. “You want to spend tomorrow with me as well?”

Mark shrugs, “why not? Unless you’re busy?”

Donghyuck fervently shakes his head, slightly colouring at his ears and Mark burns up as well, for reasons unknown to him. The rest of the dinner continues with Donghyuck talking about his younger siblings, surprising Mark with the fact that he is the eldest, and about shenanigans from the last tour a few months ago.

“There was this beastly woman who kept taking her shoes off in the dining hall,” he says, dramatically flailing his hands, “and god, were her feet nasty. Anyways, Jungwoo nearly passed out – he was replacing Johnny who was out with Ten – and Taeyong came out to politely ask her to put her shoes back on because, you know, some people passed out, like Jungwoo and it’s also a – “

“Wait, I thought Jungwoo _nearly_ passed out –“

“ – just listen. It’s also a hygiene issue you know like what if she had gangrene or like athlete’s foot lord forbid – it’s why I stayed put in the kitchen. Anyways, so Taeyong goes to sort this out – “

And the evening passes by just like that; Donghyuck talking, and Mark, earnestly listening, as they feast on hot-pot. After another hour, they decide it’s time to leave, stretching out stiff muscles and bones before they left the restaurant. Thankfully, the final tour bus arrives just in time for the boys to climb on and head back to the port. The dull roar of the engine, and the warm air from the heater, makes Donghyuck’s eyelids droop, head heavy and lolling to the side as he falls asleep. Mark notices the awkward position of his neck, crooked to one side, and gently brings his head to his shoulder. Donghyuck snuggles closer, tired from the day, and comfortable with the new position. The bus shakes and his heavy head rocks forward, back into the strained posture. Mark brings it back on his shoulder, tucking it with his own head resting on Donghyuck’s so it doesn’t slip off again.

Tokyo city lights drift by, the tall buildings eventually being replaced with the view of the harbour, and before long, they reach the port.

Mark nudges Donghyuck awake, and he drowsily shuffles behind Mark as they board the ship, fingers clutching onto Mark’s sleeve. The ship is still, most passengers staying off ship for the three days or too exhausted to be up, and the only sound is the slow ebbing and flowing of the tide as it runs along with the wind. Mark drops Donghyuck off at his door, bidding him goodnight, then retreats to his own suite.

The lights in Jaemin and Jeno’s room across are on, so Mark goes to check on them before he turns in.

“Mark!” Jaemin cheers, opening the door and allowing him in. Jeno has his camera hooked up to his laptop, browsing through images, he smiles. “Jeno’s showing the pictures from his date.” Jaemin explains, calling Mark over to take a seat.

“Looks like you had a good day.” Mark comments, making Jeno blush faintly and nod. He turns to Jaemin, “and what about you? How was your day?”

Jaemin takes a deep breath, before launching into his recount. “Amazing! After you two losers ditched me, I went to the hot springs alone. But! You know that Thai breakfast guy?” Mark nods. “He was there! With these other guys, and basically, they asked me to tag along. We went to the amusement park, _Ginza District_ , I got you guys pants – “

“Oh? Where?” Jeno buts in.

Jaemin waves him off, “In a bit. Yeah. So, I spent the day with them! Tomorrow we’re heading to a shrine and a few other places, wanna join?” He offers, looking between Mark and Jeno.

They shake their heads. “Can’t. Sorry. Renjun and I are going out again.” Jeno says, trying to look apologetic but Jaemin catches the anticipation in his voice.

“Mark?”

“I made plans,” he says, sincerely guilty, “how about the third day? I swear we’ll all go out!” Jeno nods in agreement.

Jaemin rolls his eyes, “fine. You know, this trip was supposed to be an _us_ thing. But now it’s becoming a _let’s-ditch-Jaemin-thing-and-go-on-dates-thing_.”

“I’m not going on a date.” Mark defends, but it falls to deaf ears as Jaemin huffs in annoyance. Jeno tackles him to the bed, tickling him until Jaemin is forced to forgive them.

He releases an exhausted sigh. “Only, because I love you guys and want you to have fun, however that is. As long as it’s safe.”

Mark joins his friends in lying down, squashed onto the double-bed. At times like this, he is truly grateful for having such understanding and supportive friends. He scowls. _Supportive of what?_ Mark’s not too sure, but fear pools in his stomach again, and he quickly pushes it away by engaging in Jaemin and Jeno’s tickle fest.

Jaemin screams, “I take it back! I hate you both!”

-

Renjun waves the tickets in his hand in the air as he skips through the door entering the theatre. Jeno trails behind, stopping to take pictures of the medieval scriptures and paintings on the walls. It’s their second day docked in Japan, and Renjun dragged Jeno out for a showing at the famous, _Kabukiza Theatre,_ located in the _Ginza_ district. They enter the vast auditorium from the back, thousands of seats down and across the room, so steep that Jeno’s knees wobble and knock together. He lets his camera hang loose around his neck, focused on balancing himself by gripping tightly onto the chair-heads. Renjun prances ahead casually and with ease, like he’s come home, turning around to grab Jeno’s hand and lead him steadily down the steps. Sinking down into their seats, Renjun turns to Jeno, bright eyes and smile.

“I come here at least once a year. It’s absolutely, wonderfully, magical!”

Jeno smiles back, watching as the theatre begins to fill with spectators, waiting for the show to begin. Renjun bought them tickets to a traditional play – masks and costumes and story, with all the glamour and comedy and travesty of productions from many eras ago.

Renjun takes a shot of the stage from above, sending it to Donghyuck, before he pockets his phone away and looks back at the stage. His fingers dance on his knees, and his feet bounce impatiently. Jeno smirks at his quirks, amused by the sheer delight radiating from Renjun’s being.

The red drapes begin to part, and Renjun goes berserk, slapping Jeno’s hand red. “Sshh! It’s starting!”

Jeno pouts and caresses his hand, hissing, “I didn’t say anything!”

“Sshh!”

Jeno clamps his mouth shut. Renjun stops bouncing on his seat as the drums roll and two actors step out. Shifting to the front, Jeno tunes out the dull stinging in his hand and directs his focus onto the play.

 

“Amazing, wasn’t it!” Renjun says, more a statement than a question, grabbing Jeno’s shoulders from behind and jumping on his feet, shaking Jeno in the process. Chuckling at Renjun’s antics, Jeno grabs hold of his small fingers and leans over, hauling him onto his back, carrying him out of the theatre. Renjun giggles, dropping to the ground once they’re back out on the busy streets.

“It was brilliant.” Jeno agrees, and he means it. The show was riveting and timeless – theatrical love story, skilled performers, and rich, folk music, igniting a sense of nostalgia for a past Jeno’s never experienced but yearns for anyways. “Magical, almost.”

Renjun spins on his heels, beaming brightly and eyes burning with the passion of a thousand suns, setting Jeno on fire. He flames to his ears and Renjun smirks at him.

_He stands corrected. Renjun is the magical one._

“I know.”

He turns back around, arms swinging at the sides, as he skips down the street. Jeno watches him, for a few absent breaths, snapping back to reality and running to catch up when Renjun yells at him to hurry up. Renjun leads the way to wherever their next destination is – Jeno doesn’t know, nor does he care because, as Renjun’s small back flits in and out of the sea of people, he thinks, he’d follow him anywhere.

 

They end up at Ueno Park. Cherry Blossom trees, yet to bloom, line the lake at the centre, wind gently tousling the leaves and warm sun making the scene vibrant with blue, and green, and gold. Sitting on a bench beside the lake, they eat gyoza and Renjun absent-mindedly rambles on about art and production and history, and how it fades as the years go by and how he wants to hold on tight to the ropes of traditional dance but it’s ripping his skin apart.

“My mum was a dancer.” He says suddenly, “up until I came into the picture, she performed on hundreds of stages. She quit, obviously, when she became pregnant, and never took it up again, said it consumed time she would rather spend on me.” His voice grows quiet. Jeno shifts closer to listen better. “She still danced though, at home. I grew up watching her dance around the house, with my dad, by herself. I think, seeing her made me pick up dancing, felt like I owed it to her, for taking her passion away at my arrival. Took some classes for a few years, watched some shows, and soon I ended up falling in love with the art too.” He brings a gyoza to his mouth, then put it back down on the plastic tray, looking across the water, eyes growing distant. “But I guess, I want to see what else is out there. I’ve been on this ship for so long, doing the same thing, and I want to do more, but I really don’t know where to begin. And besides, there’s not many things for someone of my skills to do, demand is low nowadays. So, I’m just stuck here. Everyone seems to be either content with what they’re doing, or moving on. Sicheng loves this job. Donghyuck is planning on owning a restaurant someday, after all this experience. And me, I’m kind of just, here.” He ends despondently with a sigh, shoulders drooping and looking so, so worn. In this moment, Jeno thinks, Renjun looks smaller than ever, and he’s never wanted to hold someone in his arms so much.

Jeno can’t say he understands, because really, he can’t, and saying it just for the sake of it is insensitive. So, he takes Renjun’s free hand in his own, rubbing knuckles and soothingly massaging the spaces in between, hoping to offer some sort of comfort. Renjun balls his hand up, forcing Jeno to let go.

“I’m not bitter, god no. It’s just, I want to get off the ship someday, you know? Do something more. I just – I’m sorry – I don’t know why I’m telling you, you don’t care and I’m blabbing – ”

“I care. I care a lot.” Jeno gingerly picks up his hand again and gives it a squeeze.

Renjun smiles, in unspoken appreciation, then pulls away to stuff the last dumpling into his mouth, dusting his hands off. Jeno follows suit, and they leave the lakeside, silently walking back to the lawn, hair and coats flapping against the flurry of sharp, stinging wind.

Renjun lures Jeno into climbing a hill – he’s still not sure how – and by the time they’re at the top, Jeno’s panting his lungs out. He really is unfit. Renjun ignores his near-death state, throwing his hands up as the wind, bolder at the new height, blows brazen and strong, threatening to knock them off their feet. Jeno comes to full stance and his eyes grow wide. The entire park lies before them, and Jeno can see the end of the lake, the outskirts of the park, and beyond. The air is cleaner, crisper, at peak, and Jeno’s lungs fill with fresh air, oxygen coursing through his body and making him feel more alive than he’s ever been. In the moment of serenity, Renjun lets out a scream beside him, that turns into a throaty laugh, and then he’s flying down the hill. Jeno jumps in surprise as he watches Renjun take off on his feet, then stumble over air, knocking his body to the side, and he’s rolling down. Jeno panics, because the screaming has stopped and Renjun’s lying flat on his stomach at the bottle of the hill. He carefully runs down to his side, flipping Renjun’s body over.

“Renjun –“

Said boy opens his eyes and spits out blades of grass caught in his mouth. His clothes are green all over, his hair is awfully unruly, and the smile that graces his face is blinding and unabashed. Jeno stares in bewilderment.

“That was, amazing!” Renjun sits up, shaking Jeno by the arm. “Let’s go again! You have to try!”

“No. No.” Jeno says, pulling Renjun back onto the floor. “You’re going to break and I don’t think I can pay for damages caused on a date.” And, he simply can’t risk Renjun getting hurt – slipping and breaking an ankle and never dancing again. Not on his watch.

Renjun doesn’t argue. He flops back onto the ground so hard his body jolts at the impact, and closes his eyes. Jeno stretches out beside him, and they face the sky together.

Flipping over onto his stomach, resting his head on his arms, Renjun turns to look at Jeno. He studies his profile, the slopes, dips, arches; the moles on his cheeks and corner of his eye, long lashes kissing his cheeks. His breath catches in his throat, but he doesn’t look away.

Jeno, feeling Renjun’s gaze, opens his eyes and turns to give him a smile. Renjun’s cheeks flare pink, and he hides his face behind his arms. “Tell me about you. What brings someone like you on a grand cruise like this?”

“A contest prize ticket.” Jeno deadpans, and when Renjun looks confused, he explains. “We won this music contest, me and my friends, and we needed a break from studying so, here we are.”

Renjun hums, “you must be good at music then?”

Jeno shakes his head. “Not really. I play the guitar, and that’s about it.”

“Oh! That’s cool! You should play for me sometime.”

Jeno doesn’t think about the fact that once he’s off the cruise, they may never meet again. He doesn’t think about the fact that time is running out, fast, and he may never be able to relinquish his love for Renjun, even when the trip is over. His heart pains at the thought, and he curses himself for falling so hard, for wearing his heart on his sleeve.

“I will.” He says instead, and it’s hopeful. He means it.

The rest of the afternoon passes by in mindless talk – Renjun asking Jeno about his course, and film, and what college is like. Jeno narrates his love for capturing moments on film, for editing, snipping, and stitching together memories, and his desire to travel the world as a photographer. Renjun takes the DSLR out of his hands to go through the photos as Jeno speaks.

“I want to work for newspapers, alongside journalists, tour the world and take photos. It’s nothing that deep really, I guess. I just, really like taking photos of beautiful things.”

“Is that why your whole camera roll is just photos of me?” Renjun asks, smirking at him. Jeno blushes to his roots, rolling over to snatch his camera back, but Renjun’s quick and averts his grabby hands, giggling at Jeno’s flustered state. Renjun’s laughter is fruity and sweet in Jeno’s ears, and it’s easily the best thing he’s ever heard.

“So, you think you’re beautiful?” Jeno retorts, fighting down the deepening blush.

Renjun sets the camera down beside Jeno, leaning in until his hair is brushing Jeno’s forehead. “I know I am.”

Jeno’s body lights up in flames.

-

Mark wakes to incessant knocking on his door, getting louder the more he tries to ignore it. He checks his phone to read the time. It’s 6 in the morning. Screwing his eyes shut and pulling the covers over his head, he continues to disregard the knocker – it’s too early for whatever they want.

Then the outright slapping begins, and the sound of hands thumping against the door, heavy and loud has Mark throwing his blanket off and stomping to the door. He yanks it open and sees Donghyuck, dressed like he’s heading to the snow, smile peeking through the top of his scarf.

“Move it Mark Lee! We’re going to Mount Fuji!”

 

Donghyuck whines as he unwraps the woollen scarf around his neck. “I can’t breathe! It’s so stuffy!”

Mark chuckles. “Idiot. It’s not like we’re going to the Himalayas, nor are we climbing the mountain. Why’d you wear all that anyways?”

Donghyuck huffs, heaving off another layer. “I read that it gets really cold even near the mountain.”

It’s a cool early morning. The sun is barely up, and they’re standing on the boardwalk on _Lake Ashi_ , getting ready to board the boat for a short cruise around the lake. The great Mount Fuji stands behind the peaks of two mountains, in all its snow-capped and legendary glory. Mark takes a few photos with his phone to treasure the moment. He’s only ever seen it in pictures or documentaries or Instagram posts. Up close and seen through the naked eye, the mountain is more magnificent than any filtered photo can show.

Mark holds Donghyuck’s backpack open as the latter stuffs his padded jacket and scarf into the small space. Zipping it up with great effort and grunts, Donghyuck sighs, patting himself on the back. “All done.” He cheers, throwing his hands up in hurrah.

Mark finds it endearing, how Donghyuck celebrates the tiniest achievements. It makes him smile, seeing the boy be proud of himself, even if the predicament was caused by him to begin with. Shaking his head, Mark chuckles. The boat arrives and Donghyuck boards first, Mark holding him steady with one arm. Donghyuck returns the favour, and when Mark trips on the edge and falls into his arm, he smirks.

“Oh dear, looks like you’ve fallen for me.”

Mark shoves him away, face growing hot. His jacket suddenly feels too thick, as his skin gets warmer under it. He unzips it, letting it fan with the breeze as the boat sets off on the tour. Donghyuck stands close to the rails, eyes glowing and mouth agape as they steer closer to the mountains. Mark stays behind, watching him with his back pressed against the wall. Surrounding them, the flash of cameras and sounds of awes go on, as passengers alike wonder at the scenic view. Mark stares at Donghyuck’s back. His auburn hair, tanned neck, rosy tips of his ears, broad shoulders. His eyes travel further down, at his long, shapely, legs, his feet on its toes, his mismatched socks that peek through the cuffs of his jeans.

Donghyuck’s like a burst of colour and excitement, and to Mark’s dull, grey life, he is the art and the artist. He’s the high that Mark never knew he needed, pulling him up and lifting him off the ground when Mark thought he’d never get off. He’s an enigma, enchanting Mark with his flair and certain grace, his silent-lapses when he cooks and when he talks about his family, when he hums to a tune Mark’s never heard but sounds familiar coming from the seams of Donghyuck’s lips. Then, he throws him off with his taunts and folly, and Mark’s confused because Donghyuck’s an idiot that he can’t seem to get enough of. And finally, as Donghyuck turns around to beckon Mark over, flashing him a brilliant smile unmatched by any star in the sky, it’s like they’re the only ones in the world.

Mark looks at Donghyuck, and for the first time, he breathes.

Donghyuck’s face pinches as he makes his way back to Mark. He inspects his face, “what’s wrong? You’re weirdly quiet.”

Mark catches Donghyuck’s gaze and stares into his eyes, glazed and golden under the sun rays peering through the clouds. He breathes again, and it’s invigorating. Like he’s never breathed like this before. His heart races in his chest, rapid beats pushing blood out through his veins, coursing through his body, making him feel alive, and Mark is filled with serenity.

“I’m good. Just.” He looks out at the view – the lake, the mountains, the green and gold and blue – then back into Donghyuck’s eyes. “Really happy. I feel really calm right now.”

Donghyuck smiles softly, taking Mark’s hands in his own, he stands with his back pressed against the wall. For the rest of the trip, they hold hands and watch the peaceful view drift by.

 

The tour stops where it started, and they’re back on the boardwalk, hands still clasped together tightly. Donghyuck looks up, and jumps on his feet, pointing. “Cable car! Mark! That’s next!”

Leaving no room for objection, Donghyuck pulls Mark towards the boarding station. Donghyuck clambers onto the cable car, tugging Mark close behind him, waiting for the ride to start.

Mark gawks at the marvellous sight as the cart steadily rises along the mountain side. The lakes and trees below get smaller, fogging up as they ascend higher into the clouds. Looking down, Mark feels his legs go wobbly, and he takes a seat. Donghyuck loosens his grip on Mark’s hand, until it falls, and he plasters his hands on the glass to better view the scenery.

Once they reach the top, the car stops briefly, and they take photos of the mountain-top view overlooking the landscape. Flipping the camera around, Donghyuck snaps a photo with Mark, then makes Mark take a few solo shots of himself. Mark laughs, as he makes theatrical poses and pulls faces at the camera, composing himself to take a final shot of him simply smiling. When asked which photo was best to send to his friends and family, Mark says all.

On the way back down, Donghyuck clings to Mark’s arm as they sit and idly chat about whatever random topic that comes to Donghyuck’s mind. Somehow, Mark lets it slip that they won the cruise trip from a music competition and that he sang and rapped.

“What?!” Donghyuck gasps, pulling back to look at Mark, “you sing _and_ rap?!”

Mark nods, blinking at him. “Yeah. I like music. I also play the guitar, but my friend Jeno’s better.”

Donghyuck gasps again. “I think you might be the boy of my dreams.”

Mark’s blush spreads like wildfire, igniting his body from root to tip. Donghyuck throws his head back and cackles, “look at you! You’re all red! Ahh, how cute.”

The redness only deepens, and Mark shoves Donghyuck off his seat before clearing his throat. “Who even says something like that out of nowhere? Obviously, I’d be embarrassed.”

Donghyuck stands up in front of Mark, places his hands on the back of Mark’s seat, bracketing him as he leans in close. His breath tickles Mark’s nose as he whispers, “admit it.”

Mark chokes, “admit what?” And by now he’s blushing so hard he’s scared he’ll never go back to normal.

Donghyuck leans back to study Mark’s face, then, shaking his head, sits down again. “Nothing. You’re too young to understand.”

“I’m a year older!”

But Donghyuck doesn’t listen, starts humming a tune instead. He shifts closer to Mark, rests his head on his arm and closes his eyes. Mark sighs, letting it go, and listens to the soft melody of Donghyuck’s humming as they descend from the clouds and back to the ground.

-

“Woah!” Renjun says in amazement, gazing down at the sprawling urban centre that stirs despite the dark hour, from hundreds of feet in the air.

It’s well into the night, and Tokyo steals the stars from the sky for its own, as it twinkles brightly under the darkness. Per Jeno’s request, they decide to visit the Tokyo Skytree as the final spot before their date ends. The giant monument, towering over the metropolitan region, is the perfect, picturesque finale. With Renjun by his side, face lit up, teetering over the rail and smile shining down like a crescent moon, Jeno is, literally, on top of the world.

Picking up his camera, he snaps a photo of Renjun’s profile, perfectly capturing the way his eyes coruscate the lights, sparkling and glittering, and Jeno asserts that no, the sky dimmed its stars because it couldn’t compete with the galaxy in Renjun’s eyes.

Renjun steps down and turns to Jeno as the shutter goes off for the second time, lightly shoving him back, then hides behind his hands.

“Stop.” He whines, “you’re making me blush.”

Jeno leans in until his lips are brushing the shell of Renjun’s ear, “good. You’re even prettier when you do.”

Renjun shoves him again, harder, then storms off, ears and neck blooming a deeper shade of red. Jeno, chuckling behind him, follows Renjun to the cafeteria. They order a light dinner and eat in comfortable silence, with Jeno chiming in to show Renjun some photos and make comments about their two days spent together. Reaching across the table, Jeno cups Renjun’s hand.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to this and honestly you could’ve just slammed the door in my face for bothering you – “

“I’d never do that. You looked so nervous I thought you’d cry if I said no.” Jeno opens his mouth to speak, coming up with no rebuttal, then closes it again. In a way, he’s right. Renjun giggles at Jeno’s plaintive expression, as if he’s been exposed. “You’re so cute, _oh my god_.”

Jeno feels his cheeks heat up, but he smiles through the blush. “That makes two of us then.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, coy smile playing at his lips, he pushes his plate away and stands up. “Come on. I saw a photo-booth on the way, and I want to take some photos of us before we leave.” Pulling Jeno out of his seat, he bounds to the booth by the Galleria.

They squeeze into the small space, bodies pressed together so they fit in the frame. Jeno tries not to concentrate on Renjun’s face so close to his, and when he does, studying Renjun’s delicate, soft features and pretty, plush lips, Renjun slaps his thigh and tells him to focus. During each five second interval, Renjun makes him pull obnoxious faces and hold until the camera snaps it. He laughs, blithe and joyous, and Jeno burns the dulcet sound to memory.

“Okay. Last two shots. Big smile!” Renjun commands, stretching out a smile. Jeno bursts out laughing, because it looks so comically forced, with both rows of teeth on display. Renjun looks at him with offence and Jeno grins guiltily, eyes disappearing into crescents – and Renjun’s no longer mad. He looks up at Jeno’s eyes as they stare at him fondly – like he’s precious, like he’s in love – then down at his lips, realising the proximity of their faces. His heart pounds in his chest so hard it hurts, and his ears go numb, vision goes blurry.

The shutter goes off and Renjun jolts, forcing his senses back to focus. He looks away, clearing his throat. Jeno frowns, unsatisfied and wanting. In a rush of adrenaline, a flurry of courage, he pulls Renjun’s face back towards him and fits their lips together. Just in time for the camera.

Renjun stiffens, wide-eyed, and Jeno pushes deeper, kissing him more fervently, more ardently. Jeno breathes deeply, relishing in the pillowy lips, small hand coming to rest on his shoulder. Renjun slides his hand down until it settles above Jeno’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, he pushes him away.

Jeno steps back, knocking into the side of the booth. Renjun pants, wiping his lips, eyes glassy and shaky. He dashes out of the booth, chest getting tighter and lungs giving out, he runs to the rails. The view of the vast, open space before him helps him relax, wills his breathing to steadiness.

Jeno slowly steps out, clutching the printed film in his hand. He looks at the last photo, and crushes the paper up in his fist, shoving it into his jacket pocket. Cautiously, he makes his way over to Renjun. His heart aches, recalling the way Renjun’s face had split in panic, confusion, as if he didn’t know what to do with himself. Jeno curses himself. Why did he even _think_ he could do that?

Renjun turns as Jeno approaches his side. His eyes dart across Jeno’s face, searching, until Jeno breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry Renjun. I am, so, so sorry.” He grabs Renjun’s shoulders in emphasis, then releases his hold when Renjun flinches at the touch. “Sorry. I’m so stupid, how could I have done that without your permission I am so, so sorry. You have every right to be mad, I completely overstepped – “

“Accepted.”

Jeno stops, blinking at him dumbly.

“Apology accepted, so stop, just.” Renjun sighs, playing with the cuffs of his sleeves, “I’m sorry too, for scaring you or whatever. I was just really surprised and, I couldn’t breathe and I got scared and –“

“What are you apologising for? I’m the one that should be apologising.”

Renjun mirrors Jeno’s frown. “And I accepted it. So now let me apologise –“

“I’m the one in the wrong –“

“Yes but –“

“So stop saying sorry, you reacted normally –“

“Listen!” Renjun hisses lowly. Jeno clamps his mouth shut, then begins to smile. Renjun exhales exasperatedly, pushing his hair back. He feels hot. “God, you’re unbearable.” Jeno’s smile grows wider, and Renjun can’t help but smile back. “Okay. It’s whatever. Let’s just go back. The last tour bus will be coming soon.”

He flips Jeno around, pushing him towards the elevator. In silence, they watch the light blink at each level the pass as they go down. Jeno maintains a small distance between them, yet smiles still, and Renjun wonders if Jeno’s a fool, for smiling despite his obvious rejection. He looks at the space between them and scowls. It’s awfully cold.

“I hope –” Jeno starts, cutting the silence, “I hope you’re not mad. Like, I know I said you have a right to be mad but I really don’t want you to be and I hope we can still be friends –“

“Jeno. Stop. I’m not mad. I never was.”

Jeno releases the breath he’s been holding, relieved. “Oh, thank god.”

Renjun giggles, stepping closer to Jeno. “You’re too cute to let go.”

Jeno flushes and rubs the back of his neck, averting his eyes away. Renjun bites his tongue. That didn’t help diffuse the situation at all. “Just, don’t do it again.” He adds, hoping to make the line clear, despite their playful flirting.

Jeno nods like he understands, “right. Crystal clear. I won’t do it again until you’re sure.”

“Sure of what?” Renjun asks, crossing his arms and glancing up at Jeno.

Jeno turns to face him and smirks. “That you love me back.”

Stepping out of the elevator, Renjun scoffs. “And what makes you think I’ll love you back –“ He freezes. “Wait. Love? Jeno what –“

“Oh, look we’re here time to get off and go go go! There’s our bus right now let’s go!”

-

When Mark wakes up the next morning, his first thought is of Donghyuck. Nothing in particular about him. Just, simply, wholly, Donghyuck. He gets out of bed with a smile, thinking of Donghyuck and their past two days together. After the Mount Fuji excursion, they had lunch and went to _Meiji Shrine_ , then rolled around in a nearby park until their fingers and hair became green.

It’s the ship’s last day docked in Japan, and Mark, Jaemin and Jeno have finally made concrete plans to spend the day together. He freshens up and heads out to the room across the hall.

“Come in!” Jaemin yells from inside. “It’s unlocked.”

Mark twists the door open to see Jaemin yanking his shoes on and Jeno scrolling through his phone. At the sight of Mark’s ready-to-go state, they shoot up and set out. Jaemin had set out the itinerary for the day. They would visit the hot-springs Jaemin’s been raving about, and then grab lunch wherever seems most appealing, then visit the Ginza District for some shopping and souvenir hunting. Jaemin rubs his palms together. “This is going to be great! You guys will love the hot-springs I’m telling you. Especially you Mark Lee. Lord knows how badly you need it.”

Mark agrees, later, when he’s sinking into the steaming water, muscles relaxing and sagging. Jeno dips his toes in, yelping at the heat, then finally sits in when Jaemin yanks him down. They bask in the heat for a few moments until Jaemin gets bored and insists on recounts of their past two days.

“Donghyuck and I went to Mount Fuji yesterday –“

“What?!” Jaemin shouts, and Jeno shushes him, shooting looks of apologies to the other patrons. “What?” Jaemin repeats, hissing lowly.

“Yeah.” Mark shrugs, “he just showed up at my door and said we were going and –“ he throws his hands up in explanation, feeling anxious under his friends’ scrutiny.

“Where were we when this boy asked you out?”

“Shut up Jaemin, he didn’t ask me out.” Mark feels hot, and it’s not just from the water. “And you guys were sleeping. Besides, I told you, I made plans.”

“Wait,” Jeno buts in, “doesn’t the chef-boy hate you? Isn’t that why you’re stuck being a dish-boy for the duration of this cruise?”

“He doesn’t hate me, I mean, I think not. We’re kind of becoming friends. And his name’s Donghyuck.”

Jeno straightens from his previous slouching posture. “Wait. Renjun’s Donghyuck?”

“Who?” Jaemin and Mark chime in unison.

“Jun’s full name is Renjun. Donghyuck must be the friend he keeps talking about.”

They look at each other and nod, finally grasping the situation.

“Small world huh?”

“It’s only one boat, Mark. They work there, they’re bound to be somewhat related.” Jaemin turns to Jeno next, looping an arm around his neck. “And what about you?”

Jeno jerks away, making Jaemin and Mark give him puzzled looks. “Nothing. We went out, ate, talked. Oh, we watched a play, went to the skytree, the norm.”

Jaemin’s brows crease with suspicion. “Really? Nothing else happened?”

Jeno shakes his head. “I thought you didn’t want me pursuing this boy?”

“I don’t. But, I don’t know, you look happy. So, I guess I was kind of hoping –“

“Well, he doesn’t like me. So, that’s that.” Jeno cuts in, sinking down neck-deep into the water. Mark reaches over to pat his head, feeling sorry for Jeno. Despite his sharp features and generally cold exterior, Mark and Jaemin knows better than anyone how much of a softie Jeno is, and how things like this affected him. Dispelling the tense mood, Jaemin moves on to lighter topics, and they forget about their troubles, leisurely soaking in the heat from the springs.

 

Mark watches Tokyo grow smaller as the ship sails farther away from the port, like a distant star that shines bright under the night sky. Silently, he thanks the city for giving him the tranquillity he desperately needed, the life he never lived and will never live again now that it’s gone. Mark knows in the future, he’ll never have the time to go back for a vacation. His phone beeps with a new message – it’s from Donghyuck, reminding him about his shift tomorrow. He knew exchanging numbers would be a pain. As Mark types out a quick reply, a photo message pops up, followed by another, and another, all from Donghyuck. Once they load, Mark realises they’re all photos of him, with the backdrop of scenic views from their trips around the city. In every photo, Mark’s either looking away from the camera or has his eyes closed, serenity, bliss, and contentment spread across his mien. Donghyuck sends another text.

_I took these stealthily since you kept refusing to take photos of yourself._

Mark smiles, his fingers absently tapping on the call button, bringing the phone to his ear. Donghyuck picks up after two rings, his steady breathing filtered by static, close against Mark’s ear.

“What is this, Mark Lee?” Donghyuck says, mischievous lilt to his voice despite the obvious tiredness. “Were you thinking about me?”

The cool, nightly breeze seeps through Mark’s clothes, sending shivers down his spine and the hairs on his arms rising. “Obviously. You were just texting me.”

Donghyuck groans, and Mark hears him shifting positions, ruffling of blankets and fluffing of pillows. He settles down and the line goes quiet for a few, breaths. Mark closes his eyes, and Donghyuck’s breathing ebbs and flows as easy as the gentle tide. “You’re so unromantic. You’re supposed to say, _of course, I’m always thinking about you_.”

Mark scoffs, “shut up.”

From the line, Donghyuck laughs, throaty and tired, and it reverberates through Mark’s ear, straight to his heart. “What are you doing now?” Donghyuck asks, voice delightfully husky. Mark shivers again.

 _Thinking about you._ “Talking to you.” Donghyuck tuts, but Mark’s quick to recover. “And, watching Tokyo slip away from me.”

Donghyuck hums, speaking slowly, in drawls. “You’re out on the deck? Idiot, you’ll get sick, it’s cold out.” Mark doesn’t reply, simply breathing into the receiver. Donghyuck sighs. “Mark? Don’t worry. Hong Kong’s next and it’s great there too! We can go out again?”

“I’d like that.” Mark can practically hear Donghyuck’s smile. The sheets rustle again. “Stop moving. It’s loud.”

“ _Sorry.”_ Donghyuck intonates. “Just trying to get comfortable.” He yawns.

“Are you sleepy?”

“No Mark, I’m bored.” Mark stays mute, and Donghyuck quickly adds, “of course I’m sleepy. Renjun and I had a long day. Boy can that boy walk, and run. I don’t run for anyone, but if you’re out with him, you have to. Why’s he always in such a damn hurry. No one’s running away from him.” He yawns again, and Mark simply hums. “How was your day?”

“Good. Went out to the hot springs. Soaked for hours. Ate too much food and spent too much money.” Donghyuck chuckles, the raspy, sleepy sound making Mark smile. _Cute._

“You’re so boring, Mark Lee. How am I so…” He trails off, yawning for the third time. Donghyuck doesn’t pick up his sentence. Slow breathing fills the silence, and Mark listens to the even rise and fall of Donghyuck’s breaths.

Looking over the sea, night sky meeting water in a seamless finish, moonlight reflecting in waves, tremoring at the cold, Mark closes his eyes, and listens.

-

“Renjun, the water is great! Join me!” Jeno calls, making grabby hands at Renjun, who sits on a deck-chair, flicking through a magazine. Renjun pulls his sunglasses down to peer at Jeno, then pushes them back up.

“No.”

Jeno dramatically flops back onto the water like he’s been shot, provoking giggles out of Renjun. “Come on. Please? It’s so nice and look,” he holds up a donut floatie, “you can sit on this if you want.”

Renjun smiles and shakes his head. “I can’t. You can have fun with that floatie by yourself.”

“Why not?” Jeno whinges.

“Because,” Renjun says lowly, “I can’t swim.” He hopes Jeno missed it, but of course, he didn’t.

“I’m sorry, did you just say you can’t swim?” Jeno gasps. Renjun rolls his eyes, slapping the magazine down on the small table beside him.

“It’s not that big a deal. I just never learnt to.”

Jeno gasps again, making Renjun groan. Before he has time to grasp what’s about to happen, Jeno is hauling himself out of the water, tank top clinging to his skin, and Renjun is trying so, so hard not to stare. He pads over to Renjun, who feigns ignorance and picks up the magazine again, flicking to a random page, acting completely fixated. Jeno places his hands on the arm rests, trapping Renjun. Peeking from over his slipping sunglasses, Renjun briefly glances at Jeno, then back down at the spread. “I’ll teach you.”

Renjun guffaws. “What? No way. I don’t think so.”

“Jun, you’re on a floating mass that’s perfectly capable of ending up like the Titanic. What’ll you do in case of an emergency?”

“Go out with flair like Jack did.”

Jeno tuts, shaking his head. “Jack didn’t go out with flair. He went out foolishly.” He corrects, standing straight to pull Renjun up by the arms. “Come on! You can even wear those cute floatie things.” He offers enthusiastically, head directing to the group of children waddling into the mini-pool in fluorescent rings around their arms and hips.

Renjun takes one look and scowls. “No.”

He’s about to sit back down until Jeno cups his face, tilting it so their eyes meet. He strokes Renjun’s cheeks with his thumbs, then squishes them together to make Renjun have guppy lips. “Please?”

Renjun can’t say no. Not to that blinding smile and those dark eyes and that hair, wet and slicked back –

Jeno’s attaching an inflated, yellow arm band around Renjun’s thin limbs. Then, picking up another, smaller, donut-ring floatie, he takes Renjun’s hand and guides him to the shallow end.

Tightly grasping Renjun’s hand, Jeno eases him into the water. Renjun takes short, sharp breaths, coercing his racing heart to calm down as the water level slowly reaches his chest and soaks his shirt completely. His legs give away and he drops, momentarily, but Jeno immediately catches him and lifts him up. “Don’t be scared. You have floaties on, you have me, and to top it off, there are lifeguards everywhere.” Jeno grips on to Renjun’s finger, slowly pulling him up to balance. “I’ll teach you how to float first okay?”

Renjun shakes his head, but Jeno promptly ignores him, lifting him up so he can lay on his back. Heeding to Jeno’s advice, Renjun tries his best to relax, regulating his breaths and easing the tenseness in his limbs. Jeno keeps his arms securely under Renjun’s back as he drifts along the water, until suddenly he hits the side of the pool.

“Jeno, pull me a bit back.”

“I’m over here.”

Renjun whips his head to the side and spots Jeno a good arm span away. Shrieking, he flounders in the water, tilting and head bobbing until he’s coughing chlorinated water. Jeno panics and is quick to his side, holding Renjun up and close to his chest. Renjun splutters, rubbing his throat to dispel the burn, then glowers at Jeno.

“Don’t let me go!”

Jeno pushes Renjun’s wet hair out of his eyes and pouts apologetically. “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

They try swimming next, with Renjun gripping into Jeno’s arms so hard his fingernails dig into his skin, and Jeno endures the pain and fights back the tears because Renjun’s trying his best to learn for him. He finally loosens his grip and stands up straight, water lapping at him shoulders, feet barely touching the floor.

“I think I’m bleeding.” Jeno says, voice brittle, looking down at his arm. Renjun follows his gaze and pouts apologetically.

“Sorry.” He rubs the indents soothingly.

Jeno shakes his head. “Let’s go again?”

Renjun nods, and they restart the lesson. “Jeno, if I die, I’ll kill you.”

“That doesn’t even make sense Jun, and I told you,” He pulls Renjun up close to his face and smiles, “I won’t let go.”

Renjun flushes red, bobbing down into the water to hide his flaming cheeks. His ears give him away, though, and Jeno chuckles heartily.

After a while, Renjun gets tired and his fingers start pruning, so Jeno hauls him onto his back and carries him around the pool, refusing to get out. Renjun hooks his legs securely around Jeno’s waist, arms around his neck, and hangs off his back as Jeno engages in an impromptu water volleyball match with random kids.

“Jeno watch out!” Renjun shrieks as the ball flies towards them, yanking Jeno’s neck back.

Jeno chokes, slapping at Renjun’s arm. “I can’t breathe, Jun, can’t breathe.”

“Oh.” Renjun slackens his hold, “sorry.”

When Jeno’s skin eventually starts to sting, he decides it’s time to get out. Renjun climbs off, rushing to the steps, holding on to the rails as he makes his way out, his t-shirt weighing him down.

“You could’ve waited.” Jeno calls as he follows close behind. “I’m coming out anyways, I’d have helped you.”

Grabbing a fresh towel from the nearby rack, Jeno spreads it out behind him and moves to engulf Renjun in the cloth with him. Renjun looks up from drying his hair, then around at the pair of arms enclosed around him. “Jeno, away.” He shoos, and Jeno instantly takes a step back, still beaming at him.

Renjun makes up for the lack of warmth by wrapping the towel tightly around his shoulders.

-

 Mark, Jungwoo, Yuta, and Johnny are playing Uno on the kitchen floor. It’s not break time. Heck, it’s actually sort of busy, but Johnny claimed that he’s unbeatable as a player, randomly while bickering with Yuta, and naturally, Yuta had to test his streak. Jungwoo and Mark joined simply because they needed more players. Mark looks back at the dishes piling up on the sink, then back at the disarrayed stack of cards in the middle of the circle. He’s sure this isn’t a part of his job description, but, Johnny gave the okay, so he shrugs and carries on.

Donghyuck spots them from afar, walking over to the group to see what was going on.

“Oh Mark,” He says, sitting down beside the boy and leaning onto his lap, “you’ve only got two left!”

Yuta scoffs, “so much for Johnny’s unbeatable streak.

Johnny puffs his chest and sets down a draw-four, changing the colour to yellow. Jungwoo grumbles, drawing four cards from the deck and passing the turn on to Mark. Thankfully, Mark has a yellow, which he throws into the middle.

“UNO!” The circle shout in unison, startling him. Yuta flings a card from the pile at Mark’s lap.

“Too bad you weren’t fast enough Mark.”

“Wait. What?” Mark looks at the group, “why do I have to draw another card? Since when could you guys say Uno for me? I haven’t even won!”

Donghyuck gasps, “Mark, those are the basic rules. As soon as you have one card left you have to say Uno, and you’re safe. If others say it for you, before you, you draw a card.”

Mark frowns – he’s never heard of that rule before. “Who made that rule?”

“Um, it's like, UNO law,” Donghyuck answers like it’s obvious.

“Why else would it be called Uno? You can’t say Uno if you have no cards, you have to say it when you have one.” Jungwoo explains, and Mark finally gets it.

Donghyuck laughs, upper body draped over Mark’s thing, he hits his leg playfully. “Oh, Mark Lee, you’re so stupid.”

Mark pinches Donghyuck’s arm, making the other boy shriek. He sits up and tackles Mark onto the floor, trying to pinch him back. Mark holds his arms back, struggling to keep Donghyuck’s fingers away from his skin. Donghyuck throws a leg over Mark’s torso, straddling him until he loses balance and ends up sitting on him, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Mark guffaws, arms losing strength and falling to the sides, giving Donghyuck the opportunity to pinch him, again and again.

“No one pinches me and gets away with it. Especially not you, Mark Lee.” He turns around and plants himself in Mark’s lap. “Let’s play another round! I’ll be on Mark’s team so I can teach this loser how to play properly.”

Johnny lifts a brow as Donghyuck settles himself comfortably between Mark’s legs, and Mark, wrapping his arm around Donghyuck to pick up the cards being shuffled out by Yuta. Donghyuck catches him staring and flushes, lifting Mark’s hand up to hide behind the cards in his hand. Johnny chuckles inwardly, shaking his head as Mark complains about Donghyuck being too big.

Mark cheek brushes against Donghyuck’s heated one, and leans back to observe him blush deeper. “You okay?”

Donghyuck blinks, long lashes fluttering, and their faces are so close together Mark can count each individual lash. “I’m fine.” Mark stays silent, too enchanted by the way Donghyuck’s eyelashes fall with every beat, the eyeliner lining his waterline, and the moles on his cheek that fall across in such a way, as if _Ursae Minoris_ dipped down to kiss them on.

_Pherkad. Eta. Beta. Zeta._

“ – Mark? It’s your turn.” Yuta cuts into his thoughts, nudging him with his elbow.

“Oh, sorry.” Mark flails around, searching for a good card to put down, when Donghyuck picks a card from the hand and throws it down.

“Reverse. We go again.” He tosses another. “Skip. Sorry Jungwoo.”

Jungwoo pouts as Johnny takes his turn. The game continues for the next twenty minutes, until Taeyong shows up, jaws clenched and glowering. The group hastily disperse, settling on Johnny being the final victor – much to Yuta’s chagrin – as he had the least number of cards. Mark’s legs are numb and buzzing, wobbling as he stands. Donghyuck holds on to his arm until Mark’s able to balance himself.

“Thanks.”

Donghyuck slaps his back, hard, and Mark stumbles forward. “Anytime, _star boy_.”

Mark gazes after Donghyuck as he winks, then saunters back to his station. Donghyuck’s wrong, Mark thinks as he watches Donghyuck’s back disappear. _He’s_ _the boy from the stars._

“Are you going to see the show tomorrow?” Donghyuck asks just as Mark’s about to leave. The restaurant is insanely busy, even more so than usual, and Mark wonders if it’s okay for Donghyuck to be sitting on the counter, leisurely eating a mars bar.

“What show?”

Donghyuck stops chewing. “Renjun and Sicheng’s performance silly. I’m going to go support my best friend!”

“Oh, hadn’t thought about it.”

“Want to go with me, since Renjun’s obviously going to be busy on stage, I’ll be by myself.”

Mark chews his lip, thinking if he’s made plans with Jaemin and Jeno already. “Sure. I think my friends were planning to go too.”

“Oh.” Donghyuck mumbles softly, “then do you want to go with them instead?”

Mark shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. They won’t miss me too much, trust me. Jaemin’s got his hands full with Jeno and his love-life.”

Donghyuck squints, mars bar halfway to his mouth. “Jeno?”

“What about him?”

“Nothing, don’t worry.” He shakes his head. “So that’s settled then. I’ll pick you up tomorrow?”

“Sounds good.”

-

“That’s great! We can all go together!” Jaemin excitedly claps his hands. “I’ve been waiting to meet this Donghyuck of yours.”

Jeno watches Mark mutter from the of his eye, something about Donghyuck not being _his_ anything, and shares a pointed look with Jaemin. Turning back to the mirror, he fixes his hair, parting it slightly to one side, then straightens his jacket.

“You’re going to see Renjun?” Jaemin remarks from the corner of the room. Jeno turns around and nods.

“How do I look?”

“Perfect. I mean, considering you are wearing my leather jacket so of course you’d look amazing.”

Jeno rolls his eyes, pockets his phone and heads out the door with a final bid goodbye to his friends. He makes for Renjun’s suite, knocking upon arrival and waiting for the door to open. He made sure that Renjun is free today, asking Jaemin’s new friends about his schedule, and planned a lunch date before the Chinese boy’s performance tonight. He knocks again, a tad louder, but gets no response. Jeno frowns. He hadn’t though this all the way through, it seems, and now he’s at a loss for where else to look for Renjun. The door to the adjacent suite opens and a tan boy, seemingly his age, steps out. He freezes upon seeing Jeno, then slowly smirks.

“You must be Jeno.”

Nod.

“I’m Donghyuck. Renjun’s friend.” Donghyuck reaches out to shake Jeno’s hand, grin growing wider. “I’ve heard _so_ much about you.”

Jeno nods again, pulling his hand back, he remembers. “Donghyuck! You’re Mark’s…”

“Mark’s?”

“Boss? Mount Fuji partner?” He finishes, and Donghyuck looks sort of disappointed. Jeno has that effect on people it seems.

“Yup.” He deadpans, popping the _p_ , “that’s me. Renjun’s not here, by the way.”

Jeno looks back at the closed door, then back at Donghyuck. “I figured. Any idea where –“

“Auditorium. He’s probably squeezing in some last-minute practice despite Sicheng telling him not to.”

“Thanks.” Jeno awkwardly stands before him for a few seconds. “I’ll see you tonight.” And before Donghyuck has the chance to reply, Jeno runs out of the hall. He stops by a café to pick up some food for Renjun, guessing that the boy would be adamant about joining him out for lunch while he is practicing.

Arriving at the auditorium, Jeno spot Renjun on the stage twirling on his feet as music softly plays behind him. Soundlessly making his way down the steps, closer to where the stage light shines just enough for him to be seen, Renjun notices him and stops dancing.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Jeno holds up the brown bag of food. “I got you an almond-scroll and some coffee.”

Renjun switches the music off and helps Jeno up onto the stage. Sitting in comfortable silence, Renjun quietly munches on his pastry, Jeno, leaning against his side.

“Are you nervous about the show?”

Renjun swallows the mouthful, setting the scroll down. “Sort of. I’m usually not like this. I always make sure I’ve got everything down well enough so I’m confident in my performance. But today, I don’t know.”

Jeno sits up, pulling Renjun closer until he’s in his lap, and rubs his arms soothingly. He nuzzles against his shoulder, and Renjun complies by tilting back against his chest. “It’s okay to feel nervous sometimes. Just know, that I’ll be right there cheering you on.” He points to the third row, Renjun following with his eyes.

“That doesn’t help.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” Renjun shifts to the side, wrapping his arms around Jeno’s middle, snuggling into the crook of his neck. “You distract me. When you’re around, it’s like I can’t see anything else.” He mumbles softly, but Jeno hears it loud and clear.

“I’ll wear a monkey cap.”

Renjun slaps his chest, giggling. “Idiot. That’ll be even more distracting, and I think security will have you thrown out. Why do you have a monkey cap with you anyways?”

“Jaemin, don’t ask further.”

Renjun giggles again. Picking up the half-eaten scroll, he brings it to Jeno’s lips. “Ah.”

Jeno takes a bite, and Renjun gleefully feeds him the rest of the pastry, pushing the last bit into his mouth, then licking the sugar off his fingers.

“Can I get a sneak peak of tonight’s show?”

“No.”

“Please.” Jeno cradles Renjun’s small frame, gently swaying them. “Or, how about you teach me to dance. I could never do it as beautifully as you but I can try.”

Renjun looks up at him and smiles. “You’re right. You can only try.” Jumping to his feet, he yanks Jeno up by his sleeve. “Get up, I’ll teach you.”

Turning the music back on, Renjun slowly begins to dance. Jeno tries to copy, heavy footsteps contrasting Renjun’s light, graceful ones. He’s dabbled in dancing before – mainly hip-hop during his high school days – but this, is different. It transcends the scopes of regular dancing, and is on a field of its own. With Renjun as the performer, the dance became art. Living, breathing through Renjun’s every move.

Jeno gives up after a while and simply watches Renjun lose himself in the music, eyes closed and small smile gracing his lips. When the music stops, Jeno claps, and Renjun snaps out of trance.

“You’re going to do amazing tonight. I know it.”

Renjun blushes at the compliment, clearing his throat and patting his cheeks to calm the redness.  “You didn’t dance, how am I supposed to teach you?”

“I don’t think I can Jun. Look at me, I have the body of a lumberjack, and you look like a fairy.”

“No, you don’t. You have a great body.”

Jeno smirks at him, raising his brows. “I’m glad you think that.”

Renjun groans, pushing past Jeno to switch the song. Another slow tune starts to play, and Renjun spins Jeno around, guiding his hands to his thin waist. He throws his arms around Jeno’s neck and starts to sway. Jeno buries his face into Renjun’s shoulder, holding him tight as they move to and fro. He pulls back to glimpse at Renjun’s expression, and Renjun does the same. For a fleeting moment, Renjun’s eyes flicker down to Jeno’s lip, breathing tickling his skin, then flitter back to his eyes. Jeno’s gaze lingers on Renjun’s lips, reminiscing the plush feeling of them against his, then searches Renjun’s face for an okay. When Renjun closes his eyes, Jeno takes the plunge, and, presses a chaste kiss on his cheek.

Renjun’s eyes split open in surprise, slightly frowning at Jeno, who smiles and releases his hold on his waist. Jeno vowed that he wouldn’t do anything until he knows Renjun is sure, and right now, he knows Renjun isn’t. He’s just drunk on the moment. But Jeno’s constantly drunk on him.

Jeno moves past Renjun to turn off the music, heart heavy and feet dragging. Renjun, without looking back, rubs his arm, chews his lip, and tries not to let the disappoint show on his face.

“I’ll leave you to prepare for the show.” Jeno says, jumping off the stage, without looking back at Renjun. A few steps farther, when Jeno is small enough to squish between Renjun’s fingertips, he turns around, and even at a distance Renjun can see the smirk on his lips. “I’ll come distract you then.”

Jeno leaves with a wave, and Renjun is alone again.

-

There’s a knock on the door, and just by looking at the time, Mark knows it's Donghyuck. He quickly fixes the collar of his shirt and opens the door to let the boy in.

“You ready?” Donghyuck asks, stepping inside the room.

“Almost.” Mark fumbles around the bed for his phone, pocketing it once he finds it under the pillow. “Oh, by the way, my friends are joining us. Hope you don’t mind?”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Not at all. And, I figured they would.”

Mark knows he’s supposed to explore that, but the show’s starting soon and he has yet to see if Jeno and Jaemin are ready. They leave his suite and knock on the one across. Jeno opens the door, stepping back to let them in, waving at Donghyuck as the latter steps past.

“All good guys, let’s go.” Jaemin says, emerging from the bathroom, setting the perfume down on the table. “Oh, hey!”

“Hi. You must be Jaemin then?”

“Yup. Nice to meet the guy who’s been taking up all of Mark’s time and thoughts.”

Mark chokes on air, gaping at Jaemin as he winks at him. Donghyuck laughs it off, and Jeno looks between them, confused. Donghyuck turns to Mark and explains, “I met Jeno today outside Renjun’s suite.”

After introductions are through, they make their way to the theatre. It’s packed by the time they arrive, and thankfully, there are a couple of seats free for them to sit in the fifth row. Mark spots Jeno craning to check the third row for empty seats, knowing that he liked sitting there best, he pats his back.

“He’ll still see me here, right? I told him I’d be in the third row…” Jeno mumbles to himself. Jaemin and Mark catch on, knowing who the subject is without a name, and reassure him that Renjun will. Donghyuck spends the waiting time kicking Mark’s foot, lifting it and dropping it with his own. He gets bored soon and takes to cracking Mark’s knuckles, to which Mark hisses in pain and Donghyuck immediately massages the pain away, sheepish smile on his face.

The show begins shortly with the parting of drapes. Renjun and Sicheng are already in formation, and when the music plays, they set off in motion. The performance is executed exquisitely and magically; the two dancers enchanting and enthralling the crowd who watch with astonishment. Mark takes a glimpse at Jeno, who sits on the edge of his seat, eyes following Renjun’s every move with love and admiration. He smiles softly, then turns to Donghyuck. Likewise, Donghyuck has his mouth slack and eyes trailing after Renjun’s every move with pride. Donghyuck blinks out of trance, feeling Mark’s gaze on his face, he turns to him.

“Focus on my best friend.” He hisses, slapping Mark’s thigh. “He’s doing amazingly!”

Mark agrees with a nod, turning back to the stage. Donghyuck sneakily grabs Mark’s hand and simply holds it for the rest of the show. Mark gives it a squeeze, and Donghyuck grips tighter.

The show’s about to end, and the duo have one last sequence before curtains close. The music speeds up and the dancers, on either side of the stage, launch into pirouette. As he turns, Renjun looks to the third row, crestfallen upon seeing no Jeno there. Then, on the second turn, eyes travelling across the expanse of seats, Renjun sees him, smiling at him so fondly his heart begins to hurt. His eyes go hazy, and suddenly, he’s falling.

The entire theatre gasps. Mark observes with horror as a quick look of sheer dread floods across Renjun’s face. He winces, the sharp, stinging sound travelling throughout the room, and collapses on the floor, ankle morbidly twisted. Renjun lets out a choked sob of pain, gripping his ankle as Sicheng and staff rush to his side. Mark whips around to look at Jeno, face struck with panic and distress.

“Shit.” He hears Donghyuck mutter beside him. Jeno and Donghyuck both stand up and run out of the aisle, as Renjun is carried off the stage.

Sicheng worriedly watches Renjun’s ailing form disappear from the stage. Then, the music starts again, turning back to the audience, he resumes sequence.

The show must go on.

-

Jeno goes rigid as he watches Renjun collapse onto the stage, gritting his teeth in pain. His ears ring, hands grow cold, shivering, as he frightfully watches Renjun be carried off. The ringing stops and everything moves again once Sicheng takes centre stage. Before he knows it, he’s up in his seat and running backstage. Donghyuck appears by his side as they weave between the staff surrounding Renjun.

“Renjun…” He breathes, breath caught in his lungs. Said boy notices him and his eyes grow wide; despair, grief, and embarrassment clashing through them. Donghyuck pushes past to get to Renjun’s side, tending to his swollen ankle. The doctor arrives shortly, bumping into Jeno as he makes his way to Renjun.

Jeno feels a hand on his shoulder pull him back, turning around to face a towering security guard. “Sir. I’m sorry but you’re not meant to be here. Please leave.”

“But – I – “ He looks back at Renjun, who averts his eyes, clutching his calf as the doctor inspects the bruise.

“Sir, please. This is an out-of-bounds area for passengers. We will have you forcible removed.”

Sparing one last glance at Renjun, Jeno nods at the guard and walks away, head hanging low and eyes burning. He walks out of the theatre without staying for the last of the show; without turning back to catch Renjun watching him leave.

 

“How is it now?” Jeno asks, examining the brace wrapped around Renjun’s foot.

“A bit better. Doyoung said I have to be off it for a couple days though.” Renjun spoons more yoghurt into his mouth. “It’s just a bad sprain.”

Jeno had spent a restless night worrying about Renjun, tossing and turning until Jaemin finally snapped. Then, in the morning, he got out of bed early, prepared a bag of food, and head out to visit Renjun. The doctor had advised to him to stay in bed for the days his ankle needed to heal, just in case any minor pull makes the sprain worse. Jeno, therefore, took it upon himself to keep Renjun company until he gets better. It’s past lunchtime, and Donghyuck had just stopped by to drop off food for Renjun, smiling and thanking Jeno before he left.

Renjun sets the container down and takes Jeno’s hand. “You don’t have to be here. Go and have fun with your friends.”

Jeno picks up his hand and brushes his lips on Renjun’s knuckles, pressing light, butterfly kisses on them. “I want to be here with you.”

Renjun moves his hand to cup Jeno’s cheek, caressing smooth skin. Jeno turns his head and places another kiss on his palm. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I – I don’t know what happened.” He says frankly, “I just – everything went hazy and I was just… falling.” Renjun hides his face in his palms and exhales deeply, "I feel so...pathetic."

Jeno switches to sit on the bed, careful not to disturb Renjun’s ankle, and pulls him closer in his arms, hushing him.

“It’s okay. This isn’t the end of the world. Everyone makes mistakes, it doesn’t make you any less of a great dancer.”

Renjun nods, “I know.” He leans against Jeno’s chest, breathing timed with the steady, calming beat of Jeno’s heart. “I’m just so tired.”

Jeno presses kisses to Renjun’s crown, until he shifts and Jeno kisses his forehead, brow, eyes, and nose. They bask in silence for a few minutes, Renjun tucked away in Jeno’s arms, then he gently pulls away. “I think,” he starts, leaning back on his pillows, “I’ll sleep on it.”

Jeno’s sure that _it_ didn’t simply refer to his foot, but, he doesn’t want to pry. With a nod and final kiss to Renjun’s head, he leaves, door softly clicking shut behind him. Renjun sighs and rolls over on the bed, facing away from the door, screwing his eyes shut. Jeno, taking a deep breath, goes back to his suite.

 

The ship docks in Hong Kong next, the last destination for the boys until their trip is up. Jeno spends the three days they’re docked for hanging out with Jaemin and Mark, and they’re simultaneously the slowest and fastest days on the trip. For a while, he forgets about Renjun, as they tour the city; visiting _Peak Tower_ , _Sky100_ , and _SoHo._ Yet a feeling of absence continues to linger by his side, with every breath he takes. It’s terrifying, and his heart clenches, at how dependant Jeno’s gotten on Renjun being with him. Glancing at Mark every now and then, Jeno assumes they have mutual feelings of bleakness, as Donghyuck refused to go out and venture the city, choosing to stay with his best friend. Jeno would’ve stayed too, if it wasn’t for Renjun’s insistence that he go out and enjoy the trip, and eventually, banning him from his room altogether.

So Jeno takes photos. Lots of them, until his SD card runs out of memory. He snaps enough photos to show Renjun and make him feel like he never missed out on a single moment. Shopping in SoHo proves to be the most enjoyable experience, when Jaemin and Mark went on a _dim sum_ challenge of who could eat the most. Naturally, Jaemin emerged as the champion, and Mark, with queasiness.

As they were walking through the shopping district, Jeno spots traditional, silver anklets with tiny bells. Without hesitance, he buys them, thinking of how beguiling they’d look around Renjun’s ankles.

“You didn’t have to get these for me.” Renjun says, as Jeno hooks the anklets on that night, small bells jingling pleasantly.

“You keep saying I don’t _have_ to do things, but I _want_ to do them, so let me.” Jeno hooks the second anklet on and smiles, jostling the bells with his fingers. “There. Beautiful.”

Even around the brown brace on Renjun’s foot, the silver piece of jewellery looked stunning. Now with every step Renjun takes, his feet will play music. He voices the thought aloud, earning himself a shove from Renjun and a shy giggle from behind his hand. Jeno scoots closer to Renjun, taking out his camera so he can detail the three, painstaking days he spent without him. Renjun listens to his friends’ jaunts earnestly, and when he laughs wholeheartedly at the stories, Jeno is fulfilled.

He only has three more days of this.

-

With only a few days left until the cruise ends, Johnny places Mark and Donghyuck on stocking duty, labelling all the food and ingredients that have been used or are reaching expiry date. Mark pushes the large doors open and staggers back. The restaurant’s pantry is enormous. Shelves and refrigerators of food spread to the roof and to the walls, and Mark is at a loss for where to begin. Thankfully, Donghyuck saunters past with a list and two markers, ready to start the task.

“I don’t get it; don’t you have to be cooking? Aren’t you one of the chefs”

Donghyuck pops the marker cap open with his mouth and scribbles on the paper, shrugging. “I don’t know. I looked at Taeyong and he just told me to do what Johnny says, so here I am.”

Judging by the way Donghyuck averts his gaze, Mark knows there’s more to the story, but the tightness in his chest keeps him from asking, unsure if he can take the answer.

They start the job smoothly, and Mark is surprised at how well they work together, and how strong Donghyuck’s work ethic is. Despite the humming and jabs he makes at Mark, he was flying through his list of stocked items he needed to label.

“What are you going to do when you get back?” Donghyuck asks, breaking the silence.

Mark contemplates for a bit. “Well, I’ll go see my parents first I guess. Then, seeing as we have a few days before we need to get back to classes, my friends and I will probably hang out –“

“I was talking about your studies, Mark. You’re in college, what’s it like? What do you do?”

“Oh, right.” He turns back to the shelves, working as he talks. “College is okay, I guess. You just go to lectures, do projects, assignments – “

“Your course. I was asking about your course, I’m not an idiot I know all of that. I’m asking about _you_.”

Mark is taken back by Donghyuck’s stare. He clears his throat and turns around again. “I take business.”

“You don’t sound very happy about it.”

“Because…” He sighs, wanting the topic to be over soon so he won’t have to think about his dad, or his future, or his family and their rules, until he’s well out of vacation-mode. “Because, I’m not, very happy about it.” Donghyuck drops his pen and drags a stool over to Mark, taking a seat, urging him to elaborate. Mark sighs again. “My dad’s a businessman, and he wants me to follow in his footsteps. My whole family agrees, because it’s a secure job and will get you an extravagant life, but…”

“But it’s not what you want.” Donghyuck finishes, and Mark nods. He leans closer, resting his chin in his hands, scrutinizing Mark. “So, what do _you_ want to do? What’s your ambition?”

Mark stiffens at the question. No one’s ever taken the time to ask him that. Sure, he’s thought about other career paths, and shared them with his friends, but with being too busy with their own hectic courses, they barely had the time to understand. Now, sitting before Mark is Donghyuck, inclined and eagerly waiting to understand. “I want to be a teacher.” He says lowly, and it’s like he’s been released from shackles. “I want to be a teacher in creative writing. I know you probably can’t relate since you’re sick of educators because of your family –“

“Just because I don’t like something doesn’t mean someone else can’t, Mark.”

Right. Donghyuck’s not Mark’s father, after all.

“So, creative writing?” Donghyuck says with a lilt to his voice. “You like to write then?”

Mark nods. “That’s also another thing I want to do. I want to write, and teach writing.”

“Oh, very ambitious! Have you written anything before?”

“Yeah!” Mark says, feeling exhilarated talking about his writing. “But, it’s not here with me.” He finishes softly. If it were with him, he’d let Donghyuck read some of his works, because despite everything, Mark trusts him – and he’s never let anyone read his works before.

“That’s a shame. You’ll have to show me sometime in the future then!” Donghyuck perks up.

There it is again. That hopeful insinuation that they’ll ever meet again. Donghyuck always speaks with conviction, and Mark wholeheartedly wants to believe it.

“I will.” He says, and he means it, he prays for it.

“How about your dream?” Donghyuck asks again, dangerously teetering the stool back.

Mark puts his foot on the rest, pulling it back up straight. “I just told you.”

“No. You told me your ambition. I’m asking about your _dream_.” Donghyuck chides, “you can’t seriously think they mean the same thing.”

Mark drifts away in thought, musing over the differences in Donghyuck’s question. Clearly, ambition meant what he wanted to do. But dream? He had no clue.

By the silence, Donghyuck gives Mark a helping nudge. “For example, my ambition is cooking, but my _dream_ is to own a restaurant one day and cook food that everyone can enjoy. People will come in to my restaurant for delicious food that’ll put a smile on their faces, that’s my dream. Dictionary wise, they mean the same thing. But they feel different, mean different, in here.” He points to his heart, and Mark finally gets it.

Thinking about his friends, Jaemin’s ambition is ecology and the environment; judging from that, and his late-night rants regarding the collapse of ecosystems and the failing government, his dream is to leave something behind once he’s gone – a legacy, a mark, a footprint. For Jeno, his ambition is photography and travelling the world, and from that, his dream is to capture fleeting moments on film that would otherwise be washed away in memories; to, for a split second, stop time with his camera.

Back to himself, Mark realises he has no _dream_ propelling his ambition. He wants to write and teach simply because it’s what he’s good at, and it’s what he likes to do, unlike business. Dwelling deep into his heart, there was nothing else in there, other than Donghyuck.

Mark looks up at the beautiful boy before him, dripping honey from his skin, eyes, tongue. Up until this trip, Mark had no dream, only ambition. He had no motivation, nothing that pushed him towards his goals, until he crashed into Donghyuck; his endless chatter, his sun-soaked skin, his eyes that look at Mark with love, and interest, and like he is special, worth it.

Within their numbered days together, Donghyuck became Mark’s dream, encompassing smaller dreams that all revolved around him.

In Mark’s heart, his dream is to hear Donghyuck laugh forever, to make him smile forever, to make him proud, and to stay by his side. To walk through life with him, through flowery fields with him, to eat his food and pinch his arms and make him blush _like flowers that bloom on brazen earth_.

Donghyuck is Mark’s dream, and right now, within it, his dream is to kiss Donghyuck.

“Mark? Are you okay? You look like you can’t breathe and it’s scaring me.”

Mark tears his eyes away from Donghyuck’s lips, cheeks flaming once he realises what he’s been thinking. He looks up at Donghyuck’s eyes, boring into his own, and feels his body heat all over. “I’m fine. Completely fine.” He clears his throat, trying to soothe the sudden scratchiness. His phone bleeps with a notification and he excuses himself from their conversation to check. Donghyuck sighs, seemingly disappointed, but let’s Mark be and walks back to finish the job.

“it’s a message from Jeno.” Mark calls out, “he wants a favour.”

Donghyuck turns around and squints. “What’s the favour?”

-

Jeno stops walking to adjust Renjun’s position around his waist properly, arms wrapped firmly around the smaller boy’s thin waist.

“Jeno,” Renjun calls softly, “where are we going?”

“You’ll see Jun. Keep your eyes shut, I’m trusting you.”

Renjun screws his eyes close. Even if he were to open them, it’s too dark outside for him to see anything. It’s the middle of the night, and Jeno randomly barged into Renjun’s room and whisked him away, refusing to tell him where they were going. Due to his severed ankle that still stings every time he walks, Jeno insisted on carrying him there. Hence, Renjun is wrapped around Jeno like a koala.

Jeno stops to take out the keys from his pocket and unlocks the door, slowly so the creaking sound doesn’t alert anyone of their presence. Feeling around for the lights with one hand, he switches it on and the kitchen floods with light.

“You can open them now.”

Renjun opens his eyes and squints at the brightness, eyes stinging, he shields them. Jeno carries him over to the counter and sets him down, giving Renjun the opportunity to take in his surroundings.

“Oh my god, Jeno, you didn’t.”

Jeno smirks, tossing the keys onto the space next to him. “I did.”

“We’re not supposed to be here!” Renjun scolds, “Taeyong is going to _kill_ you. How’d you even get the keys?”

Jeno taps the side of his nose and winks. “Let’s just say my intel helped.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, mind fleeting to an image of Donghyuck’s shit-eating grin. “We’re leaving. Now.” He makes the move to jump off the ledge, but Jeno’s quick to stop him.

“What’re you doing? Do you want your foot to stay like this?”

“Jeno, I’m fine. I’m almost healed.”

“Keyword, almost. Sit.”

Renjun grumbles, scooting further back on the counter. Jeno shuffles around the kitchen, opening the fridge to take out some milk, then the cupboards for flour, eggs, and sugar. He then disappears into the pantry, emerging with canned cream and chocolate chips. Renjun quirks a brow and watches him manoeuvre around the kitchen, fishing out a pan from the racks.

“What are you doing?” Renjun asks cautiously.

“Making you pancakes.” Jeno sing-songs, pouring the flour into a bowl. He hasn’t even measured the amount.

“Oh god, okay.” Renjun leans over and stops him from pouring any more flour. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to do something nice for you and pancakes are all I managed to learn in twenty minutes of googling.” He starts on the sugar next.

Renjun’s heart warms at the gesture, but he needs to be serious. Jeno appears terribly inexperienced in cooking, and Renjun is not risking him getting his ass-kicked if he burns down Taeyong’s kitchen. “You’re always doing something nice for me. Maybe give it a rest?” Jeno looks at Renjun, swiftly kissing his nose and turning back to the mixture. So, the answer is no. Renjun sighs. “How about I help?”

“Not on that foot you won’t. Besides, then there’s no point in it being for you.”

Renjun opens his mouth to retort but Jeno hushes him, starting on the wet ingredients now. Renjun grimaces as Jeno adds the mixtures together and makes the batter, flour and egg flying out of the bowl and splattering onto the counter. Once the batter is done and the pan is buttered and heated, Jeno ladles the mix in, sprinkling some chocolate chips. Renjun swings his feet as he watches Jeno move around the stove, flipping golden pancakes and stirring the mixture. If he’s being honest, they actually looked and smelt delicious. Observing Jeno from the back, Renjun thinks, he likes this, he could get used to this, he wants this. It’s scary how loved Jeno makes him feel, and even scarier how Renjun may love him back. Jeno’s hugs remind him of cosy nights in bed, and his eyes remind him of Beijing’s starless nights during his years at the dance academy. It’s absolutely horrifying, how much Jeno reminds him of home, knowing the fact that Renjun’s been missing home for a long time now.

What always tips him off, is the fact that in a few days, this will be over. There will be no more frolicking around the other. Jeno will go back to his life, eventually forgetting everything they shared. While Renjun, will go back to his life, wasting away in memories.

“What’re you planning on doing after you’re off the ship?” Renjun croaks.

Jeno doesn’t turn around to answer, busy eyeing the pancakes. “College I guess. I’ll go see my parents obviously, but after that it’s just student life until I’m done. Or, until Jaemin comes up with another crazy idea like this one.”

Renjun smiles. “That sounds great.”

Jeno turns around this time. “What about you?”

“Work, I guess. This cruise does another round for the next three months, with a few more stops though.”

“No.” Jeno steps closer Renjun, placing both hands on his thighs. “I meant, what’re you going to do after you’re off the ship?”

“Jeno, I’m not leaving the ship. I – I don’t know where else to go.” Renjun’s eyes go blurry, watering, and Jeno cups his face and kisses his brow, thumbing the tears away as they trickle down his cheek.

_You can come to me._

“Jeno the pan!” Renjun points. Jeno whips around, flicking off the stove and removing the pan from the heat. He carefully lifts the pancake to inspect the seared bottom. Inedible. At least it’s the last one.

Bringing the plate to the counter, he takes out some forks and tops the stack off with some cream. He feeds the first bite to Renjun, getting cream at the corner of his mouth that he wipes away. A grimace flashes across his face, immediately forming into a pained smile.

“It’s bad.” Jeno deadpans.

Renjun tilts his head, forcing the bite down, face pinched. “It tastes like flour. So much flour.”

Jeno checks for himself and gags, spitting into the bin. “Oh god, okay, that’s disgusting.”

Renjun throws his head back and laughs as Jeno continues to mock-hurl. “Oh, don’t do that! That reminds me of how we first met.”

Jeno laughs at the mortifying memory that seemed so distant now. Looking at Renjun, perched on the counter and smiling because of him, he realises how far they’ve come in such a short time. “I’m going to miss you.” He breathes out, heart sinking and eyes beginning to prick with oncoming tears. He swallows thickly.

Renjun’s face softens. “Where’s that coming from?” He asks, pulling Jeno closer until he’s situated between his legs.

“Nowhere.” Jeno shakes his head. “Everywhere.”

Renjun cups his face and smiles solemnly. Picking up the can of whipped cream beside him, he gives it a shake. “Let’s get rid of some of that bitterness, shall we?” He squirts cream into Jeno’s mouth, smearingg it all over his lips and dribbling down his chin. Jeno struggles to swallow, wiping the excess off his chin, when Renjun, on impulse, grabs him by the collar and crashes their lips together.

Jeno blinks in surprise, slowly relaxing into the kiss as Renjun pushes deeper. He wraps his arms around Renjun’s thin waist and pulls him closer until their flush against one another. Renjun slips off the counter and lands on his feet, wincing but unwilling to let go. He braces Jeno’s neck and pulls him closer, hungry for the sweetness and warmth filtering through Jeno’s lips.

Jeno’s mind goes blank. He lets Renjun take the lead, kissing fervently for what feels like hours, relishing in the softness. Breathless and sore, Renjun pulls away, panting. Jeno pulls him back in for a shorter, languid kiss, then pulls away.

Renjun blushes and looks down at his feet. His ankle has stopped stinging, and he feels like he is floating. He clears his throat, looking up at Jeno’s chest, too afraid to look him in the eye. “We should clean up.”

“Yeah.” Jeno agrees, voice hoarse and raspy. “We should. Just after a bit.”

And Renjun is drawn into another, long, kiss. 

-

Mark’s day starts with lying in bed, watching the clock tick by and slowly strike noon, signalling the start of his shift. Ever since his self-discovery journey with Donghyuck, and realising his love for the younger boy, Mark’s come to a crossroads. He can either tell Donghyuck and squash these feelings with redamancy or rejection, or, he can swallow and ignore them forever, eventually forgetting about them. Something about the way Mark’s heart pangs in his chest tells him he’ll never forget.

His phone dings and Mark already knows it’s Donghyuck, asking where he is since he’s ten minutes late. Mark reads the message but doesn’t reply, mind muddled and heart too heavy to deal with any more of Donghyuck. His head is filled with him already; anymore and he’ll _bleed_ Donghyuck. It’s exasperating, and tiring, and Mark just wants everything to stop.

Begrudgingly, he puts on his uniform and trudges out to the restaurant. Donghyuck’s waiting by the door when he arrives, looking worried at Mark’s distraught state.

“Hey, why the long face?”

Mark shrugs his coat off and pushes past him towards the sinks, pulling on some gloves. “Nothing.” He really can’t afford looking at Donghyuck right now. He’s afraid he’ll burst.

“Are you sure? You look super grumpy and you haven’t answered my texts since last night… did I do something wrong?” Donghyuck ducks down to peer at Mark’s face.

“Donghyuck seriously –“

“Aww what’s got our Markeurri so upset –“

Mark snaps, throwing the dish rag onto the floor. “GOD! WILL YOU GET OUT OF MY FACE! YES, YOU DID! YOU DID EVERYTHING WRONG! YOU’RE IN MY SPACE. IN MY HEAD. I CAN’T BREATHE AND IT’S UNBEARABLE. YOU’RE SUFFOCATING ME! GIVE ME SOME SPACE!” He screams, voice scorched and raw, burning his throat.

The entire kitchen freezes, staring in bewilderment at Mark’s outburst. Mark breathes heavily, eyes darting around the room, then back at Donghyuck, and his heart breaks. Donghyuck looks like he’s been slapped – red in the face and eyes welling up. He sniffs and takes a step back. Mark’s heart shatters in shards and pierces his guts, stabbing him with guilt. _What has he done?_

“Sorry.” Donghyuck mumbles, and he sounds so small, so quiet and broken and hurt, that Mark’s brain goes haywire. He can’t stand himself; can’t stand showing himself to Donghyuck. So, he leaves, pushing past the staff and out the door.

Mark finds himself in front of Jaemin and Jeno’s room, knocking loudly. Jaemin opens the door, annoyance disappearing as soon as he notices Mark’s face. “What happened?” He asks, guardedly.

“I fucked up. I fucked up really bad.” Mark chokes. His heart hurting in his chest, and when Jaemin pulls him into his arms, he breaks down in sobs. “I fucked up.” He wheezes between muffled sobs. Jaemin combs his fingers through his hair, soothingly, and hushes him.

“Hey. Tell me what happened and I’ll go fix it. Don’t cry. It’s okay. I’ll fix it.” Jaemin moves into the room, dragging Mark along, rubbing his back. “Sshh, come on, tell me.”

Mark shakes his head, clinging onto Jaemin as he sobs harder.

He knows no one can undo what he’s done, except himself.

-

Jeno slinks past the guards, slipping in to the hallway leading to the dressing rooms. With Renjun’s ankle all better, he’s fit to perform in the last show. Jeno had gone to bed last night giddy and jittery. Renjun had finally kissed him first, meaning he liked – if not as strongly – him back. Jeno planned to see him today, wish him luck before the show, and invite him out to dinner so they can discuss whatever the previous nights’ events meant, and what the future will hold.

He knocks at Renjun’s door, opening it on Renjun’s grant. Renjun’s standing in the middle of the room, pinning his hair in place, when he freezes upon seeing Jeno in the mirror. He turns around and steps back. “What’re you doing here?”

Jeno shuts the door behind him and smiles. “Came to wish you good luck. I know you’ll be spectacular up there.”

Renjun blushes at the compliment, turning around to prep his hair for the show. Jeno sneaks his arms around Renjun’s waist and kisses his cheek. Renjun yelps, flinching away. “What’re you doing?!” He yells.

Jeno throws his hands up and steps back in shock. “Sorry. I just – never mind. We’ll sort this out later. Speaking of, after the show –“

“Sort what out?” Renjun interrupts, watching Jeno warily.

Jeno falters, feeling antsy from the look of irritation and confusion on Renjun’s face. “What happened last night. You kissed me, remember?”

Renjun looks away, focusing on removing his costume from the dry cleaner’s bag, avoiding Jeno’s stare. “Oh. That. Just, forget about it Jeno. It was meaningless and I was just caught up in the moment. Don’t hold on to it.”

Jeno blinks. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. Blood rushes to his ears and his fingers grow cold. His heart stops in his chest. Breath hitches in his throat. A chord in his heart snaps. “What?” He breaths out with more bite than intended. Renjun cowers. “What do you mean it was meaningless? It meant everything to me. How could you say that?”

“Look, Jeno, I’m sorry but –“

“But what? You can’t return my feelings? You don’t like me? Then why would you let me hug you and kiss you and – and – why would you kiss me, why would you lead me to believe that you were starting to like me back? That I had a chance.” Jeno’s voice cracks and it comes out airy. His eyes burn and tears threaten to spill over the edges. Jeno doesn’t dare blink.

“I’m sorry Jeno, but I can’t do this. It’s not –“

“And what about me? Did you even care to think about what I feel? That I love you even after –“ Jeno chokes up. He rubs his palms over his face, blinking the tears away. He shakes his head and mutters, “I’m done.” Renjun looks up at him, lips quivering. “I’m done.” Jeno says louder. “I’m done with whatever this is.” He flails his arms around, placing his hands on his nape. “I’m done watching you.” Louder. “I’m done pining after you.” Louder.

Jeno slams the door behind him on his way out, and Renjun is left, cold and forlorn. The silver spangles around his ankles feeling icier than ever.

-

Mark lies awake at night, musing over his cry and talk with Jaemin. According to him, Mark just needs to apologise to Donghyuck, then explain how he feels, which will equate to Mark revealing his feelings and nope. He can’t do that. The apologising part sounded appealing, seeing as tomorrow is his last day on the cruise, and Mark is genuinely going to miss Donghyuck. He doesn’t want their good run to end on a miserable, hate-filled note.

The hours he spent crying has helped clear out his emotions, and Mark feels chirpy enough to message Donghyuck, asking if they could meet up tomorrow. He stands up to look for his phone, remembering it was in his coat pocket, he searches for his coat. It’s nowhere in the room.

Mark curses himself, having forgotten it in the kitchen, and, grabbing his key-card, sets off to retrieve it. The ship is soundless in the middle of the night. Lights illuminate the barren decks, and the sea roars with the wind. Mark hugs his robe around his shivering body and shuffles to the restaurant. He fishes out his staff key, only to see the kitchen light on through the ajar door. He frowns and carefully makes his way towards the door and stops. Donghyuck’s silvery voice hits his ears, and Mark’s chest tightens at the euphonious sound. His hand shakes, and his heart tugs, pushing him to take the final step and walk through the door.

Donghyuck’s hovering over the stove, ear-pods in, singing as he stirs the pot vigorously. The delicious smell of stew wafts through the air, and Mark salivates. He had skipped dinner, and was feeling famished. His coat hangs off the rack, and Mark has half a mind to just grab it and leave whilst Donghyuck’s back is still turned. But he stands there and waits, until Donghyuck spins around, staggering back at the sight of Mark. He removes his ear-pods, blinking at Mark.

“Hey.” Mark greets with an awkward wave.

Donghyuck presses his lips together and looks down. “Hi.”

“What’re you doing so late?”

“Oh,” Donghyuck jabs at the pot behind him. “I couldn’t sleep, and I – I like to cook when I’m, uh, stressed.”

“I guess that’s my fault.” Mark adds, earning a nod from Donghyuck. The acknowledgement hurts. “Donghyuck,” he steps closer, taking the chance, “I wanted to tell you that I – I’m so sorry for everything that I said today. I wasn’t in the right mindset and I was confused and,” he sighs, “I took it out on you when I shouldn’t have. I’m really, really sorry. I hope you can forgive me, because you – you’re really important to me.”

He peeks up at Donghyuck, who play with his thumbs, taking in Mark’s apology. He looks up and smiles sadly. “It really hurt.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck chews his lip. “But, I’ll give you another chance, I guess. I just wasn’t expecting it from you, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry.” Mark mumbles again. Donghyuck smiles and walks up to him, pulling him into the kitchen. He lends him an ear-pod and an unfamiliar song plays. Donghyuck hums along, watching the stew bubble and boil, comfort food at its finest. Mark sits in silence, resting his head on the counter, watching Donghyuck fuss around the kitchen, dozing off to his soft voice.

Donghyuck nudges him awake, pushing the bowl of stew towards him. Thanking him, Mark eats in silence, blowing out the steam and letting the broth warm his insides. Mark is going to miss Donghyuck’s cooking, adding to the long list of things he’ll miss, most of which include the younger boy.

Donghyuck finishes first and throws the dishes in the sink to get cleaning. Mark shortly joins him to help, and accidently ends up spraying Donghyuck with water as he washes his spoon. Donghyuck gasps, flicking water back. Mark frowns as the drops hit his face, and he sprays more onto Donghyuck with the spoon. Looking at the other’s wet hair and face, they burst out laughing, and the tense mood dissipates.

The song changes again to a more upbeat tune, and finally, Mark recognises the song. Donghyuck looks at him and they both gasp. “I love this song!” They shout in unison, and Donghyuck starts dancing along, jumping around the kitchen. Mark laughs, lovingly watching Donghyuck go crazy with glee, heart soaring.

 _“You are the girl, that I've been dreaming of, ever since I was a little girl.”_ Donghyuck sings along, tugging Mark by the arms to get him to join. _“You are the girl that I've been dreaming of ever since I was a little girl.”_

Mark’s chuckles turn into laughs as Donghyuck mindlessly dances and sings, swinging Mark’s arms and shaking his shoulders. _“The word's on the streets and it's on the news, I'm not gonna teach him how to dance with you.”_ Mark finally sings along, husky voice blending with Donghyuck’s light tone. Donghyuck beams at him and sings even louder, forcing Mark to follow suit. _“He's got two left feet, and he bites my moves, I'm not gonna teach him how to dance, dance, dance, dance!”_

The song ends with the boys panting, slouched against the counter. Donghyuck arches his back, sighing at the satisfying crack. Mark grimaces at the sound. “Well,” Donghyuck blows his fringe out of his eyes, “that was an unexpected workout. I have a stitch in my stomach now.”

Mark laughs as Donghyuck rubs his stomach, wincing in discomfort. He goes to grab a glass of water, stopping to stare out of the porthole. “Mark, come here.” He beckons him over. “Look at the moon. It’s so big and close, you can see it’s pores!”

Mark comes up behind him and takes a look. “No you can’t!”

“But it’s still pretty close!”

Mark hums as the song changes to a slow one, resting his chin on Donghyuck’s shoulder. He cranes his neck to look at the stars on Donghyuck’s face again, admiring the way they fell so perfectly, replicating the Northern Sky. His lips are centimetres away, and the urge to kiss them rushes through his veins. Donghyuck’s eyes go out of focus as he stares at the moon in wonder, coruscating its light in his eyes. The ebbing sea reflects in the darkness of his orbs, moonlight, ripples and stars, and Donghyuck’s never looked more magical.

_On this night, and in this light_

_I think I'm falling, I'm falling for you_

“Donghyuck.” Mark breathes, standing up straight. Donghyuck turns around to face him.

“Yeah?”

Mark bounces on his feet, heart leaping in his chest. It’s all or nothing now. Cupping Donghyuck’s cheeks, he pushes their lips together. Donghyuck stiffens at the contact, then slowly slides his hands up Mark’s waist, resting them between his shoulder blades, breath tickling Mark’s skin. They pull away, Donghyuck’s eyes fluttering open, sprinkling stardust. Mark thumbs them away. “Donghyuck.” He breathes again, ghosting his lips.

“Yeah?” Donghyuck croaks in a barely audible whisper.

“You’re a dream, Donghyuck.” Mark tells him, staring deeply into Donghyuck’s eyes. “You’re my dream. And, I really like you.”

Donghyuck replies by sealing his lips once more.

-

Jeno’s lying on the sky deck, spread out on the fake lawn, stargazing at the dead of the night. His day passed by dreary, with no contact with Renjun. The absence makes his heart grow weary. Tomorrow morning, the ship would dock in Seoul, and he’ll have to wave goodbye to these two weeks and return to his normal life, without Renjun. Jaemin tried his best throughout the day to cheery him up; taking him out swimming, to the arcade, to spoil Mark’s date with Donghyuck and then later have the three of them console him. It baffled him how Donghyuck wasn’t siding with Renjun, to which he shrugged and said _an idiot’s an idiot._

He sighs, breath frosting in the chilly night. Despite everything that went down between them, Jeno still ached to see Renjun. He wondered how his performance went; if his ankle hurt; if he’s angry at Jeno for yelling at him. Jeno knows, that he isn’t solely at fault – but he’d rather take the bullet, even if Renjun’s the one who shot him.

Jeno sits up at the sound of feet shuffling against the deck. He stands and turns around, freezing as Renjun comes to view, startling at the sight of Jeno. He’s got his fluffy slippers on, and a blanket wrapped around him, and Jeno badly wants to pick him up and engulf him in his arms.

“Hi.” Renjun whispers.

Jeno wordlessly waves back.

“I didn’t think you’d be here… usually I’m the only one who comes here… at this hour…”

Jeno shakes his head. “No, no, just – this is my first time, and last time, coming here. Just to think. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

Jeno awkwardly swings his arms, clasping them together and nodding. “Well then.” He starts to leave, but Renjun takes a sharp breath and Jeno stops in his tracks.

“Wait. I need to talk to you, about, stuff that I’ve been thinking about.”

Jeno turns around, crossing his arms, motioning for Renjun to continue.

Renjun takes a deep breath. “Here goes nothing. Um. I’ve been looking at a few college courses and, theatre studies and drama really piqued my interest… I spoke to my parents, and Sicheng, and Donghyuck just now, and they all said I should go for it.”

Jeno purses his lips. “That’s good.”

“No. What I’m trying to say is – I – Jeno you gave me so much in such a short amount of time, I didn’t know how to handle it. Everything was happening so fast and at the same time, I got scared. At first, I didn’t like you, and even though I tried so hard to keep it that way, I ended up really, _really_ liking you which made everything so much scarier because – “ he looks up at Jeno, grief-stricken, “ – because I’m still trying to find myself, and you’re already so sure of everything while I’m still here, struggling and – and I was so terrified you’d leave me behind. That you would get tired of me. That later on, you’ll realise how unworthy I am and leave me.” Renjun’s lips start to quiver, and Jeno hurts everywhere, badly wanting to scoop the small boy up into his arms. “I ruined everything that night by indulging in emotions I couldn’t handle yet and I’m so, so sorry I hurt you. I was trying so hard to protect myself, I forgot that hurting you hurt me too.”

Jeno searches for words to say, anything that will express how he feels. That will relay to Renjun that Jeno would die for him, even after everything.

“If you’ll have me,” Renjun mumbles, “I’d really like to – ” he flails his arms around in explanation. Jeno chuckles. He gets it. Renjun looks up in surprise as Jeno smiles at him, stepping closer and closer.

“I was really upset – “

“I know I’m sorry – “

“Really angry too. I wanted to hate you, completely stop loving you. Heck, when I saw you just now I wanted to go off again. But, one look at you and – _god, do you even realise what you do to me_ – you stole all my words away. All my anger and frustration, gone, just like that. You lead me on, trampled over my feelings, and I’m such a fool I’ll let you do it a thousand times more, because my love for you runs blind and deep." He pauses to draw a sharp breath, lungs swelling with much needed air. The rush makes him lightheaded. "Don’t think you’re the only one scared. I’m terrified. I don’t know what to do after this.” He steps closer until he’s toe-to-toe with Renjun, staring deeply into his eyes and breathing against his lips. “But what I do know, right now, is that I really want to kiss you.”

And he does.

 

Jeno wraps the blanket snug around them, Renjun leaning back against his chest, fit into his lap. For hours, they’ve been sitting and discussing how to forgo with their relationship, eventually lapsing into comfortable silence, watching the stars twinkle in the darkness. Renjun draws absentminded shapes on Jeno’s hands, tracing over veins and lifelines. Jeno holds him close, resting his chin on Renjun’s shoulder, listening to the steady rise and fall of the sea, and Renjun’s breathing.

“I think you should know,” Renjun starts. Jeno hums, coaxing him to continue. “I applied for a college in Seoul. A couple, actually. They have really good art programs there and, even if I don’t get in, I’m still going there. I figured, I’ve been travelling the seas for so long it’s about time I make my own home.” Jeno squeezes his hands, and Renjun squeezes back. “I gave in my resignation forms already, so in three months, after this rotation is over, I’m free. Sort of.”  

“You’re coming to me.” Jeno whispers happily.

Renjun hums, smiling. “In a way, yeah I am.”

Jeno shifts to look at Renjun, turning his head towards him. “I’m really happy for you.”

Renjun smiles, nuzzling his nose with Jeno’s, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. “Me too.”

-

Mark wakes up the next morning to a mouth full of hair and arms full of Donghyuck. The latter yawns and stretches, taking up the bed and causing Mark to collapse onto the floor. Donghyuck peeks over at Mark from the edge of the bed. “What are you doing on the floor?”

Mark grumbles, getting to his feet. Donghyuck kneels on the bed and pulls him down for a kiss, and Mark scrunches his nose at the morning breath. “You’re not peppermint-breathed either.” Donghyuck retorts as he clambers off the bed and into the bathroom. Mark looks around at his suite. His bags were packed – after many trying hours of him packing and Donghyuck unpacking – and a clean outfit lay on the chair for him to wear when they dock.

Mark checks the time. It’s 10am, They’ve already docked.

“Donghyuck! I’m late! We’ve been docked for an hour!”

The faucet turns off as Donghyuck screams. “What?! You have an hour to get off before the ship leaves again! Move your ass!”

Mark flies around the room, packing his charger and calling Jaemin and Jeno to make sure they’re up. Jaemin answers the phone and confirms that he’s ready, but he can’t find Jeno anywhere. Mark rubs his temples.

-

Jeno’s eyes blink open to a view of Renjun sleeping soundly, nestled in his arms. He shifts, and the sun hits his eyes, blinding him. The gulls squawk and the commotion of people moving in herds pull him back to reality. He checks his watch.

_Shit._

He carefully removes his arms from under Renjun’s head, shaking it back to life. Jostling Renjun’s shoulder, he wakes the Chinese boy up. “Junnie, we’re docked.”

Renjun flings the blanket off him and shoots up. His face is swollen, hair standing on end, and his eyes are squinting at the brightness of the morning. “What? For how long?”

Jeno presses a kiss to his cheek, then slowly, his lips, releasing with a loud smooch. Renjun slaps his arm. “What’re you doing?! You have to go!”

Renjun jumps to his feet, slightly tipsy, then pulls Jeno up. Picking up their belongings, they hurry down the steps and to Jeno’s suite.

-

Mark drops his bags as Donghyuck launches himself at him for the hundredth time since they woke up, kissing him breathless. Jaemin takes photos and laughs, promising to send them to Donghyuck once he’s back home. Mark groans. Jeno finally emerges from the suite, arms looped around Renjun’s shoulders, smiling widely. Mark looks at Jaemin and shares a look – contentment.

“They’re telling everyone who’s leaving to go now.” Jaemin says, hauling his bags over his shoulders. “Say your goodbyes now folks.”

Jaemin hugs Donghyuck and Renjun goodbye, lingering on for a few moments, promising to catch up once they’re in Seoul. Then, he leaves first, mound of bags attached to his arm as he waddles down the bridge.

Mark turns to Donghyuck, ready to say his last words, for now.

“Donghyuck –“

“Save it for when I come to see you. Which will be soon because my parents are pestering me about neglecting them.”

Mark nods. “Right. I’ll see you soon then.”

Donghyuck kisses the tip of his nose, arms looped around his neck. “Oh! Speaking of, remember you’re going to talk to your parents about –“

“My course, yeah yeah. I will.” Mark kisses Donghyuck’s forehead, then grazes his lips down, kissing each one of the stars on his cheek, until he reaches Donghyuck’s lips, pressing against them.

“I’ll miss you.”

“Me too.”

“You better call me.”

“I will.”

Donghyuck pulls Mark close and inhales deeply, pushing him towards the gate as he exhales. Mark looks back as he’s halfway down the bridge. Donghyuck’s bright orange hoodie making it easier for him to spot the boy waving back. With a final wave, Mark carries on.

-

Jeno looks at Renjun standing at the railings, watching as the ship slowly starts to leave the dock. Renjun waves timidly, and Jeno’s heart swells with feeling. This isn’t the end. Far from it. It’s only the beginning.

He looks to his side. Mark’s on his phone, rapidly typing away. Jeno looks back at the boat and notices Donghyuck, beside Renjun, doing the same, and smiles.

Just like that, he’s hopeful for Renjun and him as well.

Jeno blows a kiss, to which Renjun catches and presses to his heart. Jeno can practically see him roll his eyes, hear him giggle, and he chuckles to himself.

Their cab arrives with a loud honk, tearing Jeno out of his daze. Turning away from the ship, Jeno makes his way to the car. The wind picks up, the waves crash against the sides of the boardwalk, and Jeno feels light on his feet –  like he’s flying.

**Author's Note:**

> Wooh! That's done! This fic took a lot out of me, and I'm so glad it's over. Needless to say, I may have cried writing the ending because of how emotional I was getting, knowing it'd be over soon.  
> I hope you enjoyed it, in all its dramatic and cheesy glory. 
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments. I highly appreciate them. 
> 
> Talk to me on twt: [baeksonified](https://twitter.com/baeksonified)  
> Or: [cc](https://curiouscat.me/angelcakkes)  
> //EDIT: To everyone who left comments/kudos thank you so much! I really REALLY appreciate them and they put a smile on my face and really make me want to write more! Thank you so much for liking this fic and my writing even though I am severely lacking. I will be sure to put out more works (for my own indulgence more than anything tbh). Thanks again!


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